Tap. Tap. This thing on??!?!?

Say what now???!!!!

1/1/17 NOON

CXMAS - The Hangover Edition

Stay tuned for more info on here or your favorite multi-hundred billion dollar social media platform*.

In the meantime start huffin and reminisce a little...

CXMAS 2013
CXMAS 2012
CXMAS 2011
CXMAS 2010
CXMAS 2009
CXMAS 2008

*that means you won't see a single tweet about this shit


Team Seagal Presents: The Pinner Classic Non-Race #1

May 22nd, 2016 marked a place in history for Team Seagal in the Northwest.  The Pinner Classic was set to go down on this day, and why yes, it did!! A few months in the making and yours truly, T Tox, set off on making this non-race packed full of sponsorship giveaways, all the Oskar Blues Pinner Throwback IPA you could drink, and tons of fun riding on some sweet Northwest single track.

A few months ago, a few Team Seagal riders and friends made a 3.5 mile loop over at the Stottlemeyer Trail system. This course was to be the route for The Pinner Classic. We decided that the 3.5 mile loop was to be ridden 3 times with 80% of that route being single track and only 20% of that course ridden on fire roads. We showed only the highest levels of Superior Attitude on that February day. As you can see in the photo below, February in Washington isn't so bad for riding...

After creating the course, and working with our local sponsors for help, we set the date for The Pinner Classic.

Friday before the non-race, myself and our fire fighting Mr. Badass, Geoff (still waiting on a proper Seagal name) took the 9am ferry from Edmonds to Kingston for a day of hiking and clearing the course. We received only the best treatment of sunny weather, a six pack of NW tasty beer, and the best BLTs you can get from a gas station in WA.

To our delight, the course needed zero clearing and was ready to snap wrists for race day!

Now onto the non-race. We woke at 5am in preparations on making the 7:10 ferry. Instagram Zack, our Oskar Blues rep Erik, and myself got to the ferry in time and enjoyed baby sized Chorizo Egg burritos from our favorite 24hr Mexican spot, Memos! The skies showed an overcast day with little chances of rain. We had everything we needed on transporting the beer to the start location of the ride.

Imagine hauling 50lbs of beer and ice 1.5 miles on fire roads with one "barely" equipped BOB trailer. (Ask Instagram Zack about using a BOB trailer, he may forget to tell you about the locking pins on the bottom of the bolt on mounts.) That was fun having the trailer pop off twice on the ride up to the start location...

Thanks to Jason at Swift Industries for teaching us the ways of proper BOB trailer usage. Don't forget the locking pins...

Once the group of riders made their way to the start, we did exactly what jerks would do: prolong the race because we were busy drinking beers and enjoying the finest legal chinese herbs in the land.

Non Race begins. 12 riders set out for the title of The Pinner Classic Champion!

Lap one showed Andrew "Powerman 5000" in the lead, straight crushing souls and snapping wrists. Powerman would have the lead for the remainder of the race!


In 2nd place, fast on Powerman's tail was Mr. Swift Industries, Jason. Without knowing until the after party, Jason was our only single speed participant, and for that, he received the award for being Mr. Single Speed! And maybe the award for best way to eat a pickle then chug an Oskar Blues Pinner IPA! Strong work.


3rd and 4th place gave us Matt Servia and Fancy Fred fighting for podium placement. Servia would lead 3rd place for all 3 laps. Fancy was hot on his wheels though. Final lap gave us some exciting finishes. Servia comes sprinting to the finish line with Fancy right behind him! I never would have thought we would see a sprint finish in our first Northwest Non-Race...


The Pinner Classic Top 4:

Andrew "Powerman 5000" (1 hour 3 minutes)
Mr. Swift Industries (1 hour 11 minutes)
Matt "I don't do social media" Servia (1 hour 24 minutes)
Fancy Fred (1 hour 24ish minutes)

If you're wondering what happened to our other 8 racers, well, the night before the Non-Race, at the nearby campground, we found that a young man was having his bachelor party. Alex Royale and his buddies had all the whiskey their weak stomachs could take, and experienced a very challenging morning of bike riding. They did not complete the 3 laps.

Now, something to mention. Matt Servia was present for this bachelor party, and did he complain? No. He sucked it up, drank an Oskar Blues Pinner IPA, and read to the chinese gods for power and stability during his first Non-Race. He came out with true Seagal superior attitude and superior state of mind. Way to go, Jerk!

After the ride we did exactly what all Jerks do: drank all the beers, enjoyed fantastic sandwiches and pickles from our sponsor Kiss Cafe, and reminisced about the days festivities!

Zack showing us how to chase fireball with a little drop of pickle.

I have to mention somethings before I unload some photos.

Erik at Oskar Blues,
You went above and beyond for your efforts in making this race a reality. You brought 8 cases of beer, all the ice, hats, t-shirts, and pinners. And not to mention,  you hiked the 1.5 miles to the start with your heavy backpack full of more beer and the OB signature flag! Thank you.

Brenda at Kiss Cafe,
You showed your support in more ways than just gorilla sized fresh sandwiches. You came out and surprised us on your bike and did a hot lap just to get some riding in. You fucking rock and your cafe's pickles did not disappoint! Thank you.

J at Project 529,
Your busy schedule shows you really care about the community of Mountain Biking and the risk of bike theft. Your support goes a long way. Project 529 is a digital registration and recovery service for stolen bikes in your area. Thanks for the prizes and the appearance you made at the race! BIKE THIEVES SUCK.

Karin at Hunni Co.,
The case of locally made electrolyte water went to good hands. After a "few" beers and a big day of riding, your support kept us hydrated and our bodies happy. Thank you.

Brenda of Kiss Cafe and J with Project 529

2 gallons of sliced pickles! #allthepickles 

Fred, the fanciest of non-racers
Picker A.K.A. Samuel Axel, dressed as an Oskar Blues male model. Rarely seen drinking a beer or wearing beer gear.

Powerman 5000 just snapped every wrist that entered The Pinner Classic. He holds the title going into 2017.

Next Team Seagal NW event is The Vampire 100 on July 24th starting at 12am.


T Tox, over and out!


New and Improved Death By Hills Garmin Link

After doing some Double Secret Recon this past weekend, I thought it best to post up a Garmin Link that was updated by someone with superior attitude.


Your boi Peat and I may have achieved centuriousity, fueled in part by a proper send-off:

On the way to visiting the STLCC Monument on Old Manchester, we successfully summitted the slopes of Melrose Road, in hopes of scoping out the condition of the sinkhole. I'm happy to report that it looks to be almost completely repaired. There were still dudes working on it, but in two weeks, I'd be surprised if it is still closed. SHIIIID.



8th Annual Death By Hills - 2016

Yep, it's that time of year again - to show up to a really hard ride and impress everyone when you're crushing out a couple of climbs, only to unceremoniously break off early and head home without anyone noticing! It's a new February tradition. This year will be no different - for Death By Hills is upon us, and your quads need to wake up from their long winter's nap. And, Energor willing, we'll be able to hold this ride on the initial scheduled date - and not push it back continuously.  

When: Sunday, March 6th, 9AM - READ: CLICKING IN AT 9AM (or for those of you drinking the Rivendell Kool-Aid, read "Putting your tennis shoes on your traditional MKS flat pedals at 9AM")

Where: In the big parking lot across from "The Wolf"  at the intersection of Kehr's Mill Road and Clayton Road.

WTF is this shit: This route will be around 90 miles if you do the entire thing, and will be extremely difficult. It is all very good pavement, so depending on what your definition of "skinny tires" is, go ahead and slap them on your bike. 23c tires will be just fine. Scroll down for the route. Some will go fast, some will go slow. Find your pace, because it will all break up by the end of the day.


-This is an UNMARKED route. Bring a cue sheet (see below) or download the Garmin route! Or just ride with a friend who knows where he or she is going, and isn't so annoyed by your incessant chit-chat that they ride away from you!

-This is an UNSUPPORTED RIDE!!! No one is watching after you! So make like a kindergartner and get on the buddy system if your worried about the unforeseeable. If you engage in some major dumbassery and eat shit, I'll tell you right now that if you try to sue Team Seagal, please understand that there is no money to be had there. It would be like squeezing juice from a turnip... or like some hot chick trying to squeeze spooge from Criss Angel - it just ain't gonna work.

-There are only TWO PLACES FOR WATER AND FUEL! One is at about mile 30 (the gas station at Allenton Road and Hwy 44) the other isn't until mile 80 (the gas station at Wild Horse Creek Road and Eatherton.) - This means there will be a *50* mile stretch of no good places to get water or food - so plan your food and water consumption accordingly! (third bottle, camelback, etc...)

-Make sure your bike in decent working order PRIOR to the ride, that way you don't ruin your day AND someone else's by feeling guilty to have to stop and help your crippled ass. Support your local bike shop and have them check your bike over - I swear to Energor, they want your business right meow.

-PLEASE BE BE COURTEOUS TO DRIVERS! Remember, while West County/Wildwood DOES see a lot of bicycle traffic, it isn't often that there is a massive fucking group like this - so the less we piss them off, the greater chance we have of not getting ran over further down the line.

 Garmin link to ROUTE


-Start at Lone Wolf Coffee
-Head west on Clayton,
-Left on Thunderhead Canyon Dr.
-Left on Westglen Farms Dr.
-Right on "Village Plaza View Dr," toward the stripmall
-enter bike path opposite the parking lot
-left across black pedestrian bridge, crossing Hwy 100
-left after bridge
-hard right off of curb onto Old Manchester (across from the Jack in the Box)
-left onto Woods Rd. Descend and turn left up Bartizan, come back down, and continue down Woods.
-left onto bike path and ride south along Hwy 109.
-left up Old State for about .1 mile
-left onto Redtail Hawk Dr
-Then turn/veer left onto Johns Cabin Rd, which is a clockwise loop (Mitch's secret training loop) and will bring you back to Old State. (BUT not before making a quick left up and back down Starwood Rd!)
-Cross 109 at Old State, turn right up Alt Rd.
-Left on Forby.
-Right on N. Central Ave
-Cross over Hwy 44, turn right onto West Main St (in between train tracks.)
-left onto Wengler and start Allenton Loop, going CCW.
-Exit Allenton Loop to the left, go underneath Hwy 44, and climb Allenton Rd. *GAS STATION*
- right onto Scenic Loop Rd, going the RIGHT way. Let's avoid confusion, and park rangers. This is different than what the Garmin link shows.
-right back onto Allenton Rd.
-left onto Melrose
-right onto Hwy 100
-right onto Woodland Meadows Dr.
-right onto Old Manchester
-right onto Glencoe (through Rockwoods.)
-Go straight up Melrose
-Turn right (again) onto Hwy 100, cross over and turn left and continue on Melrose all the way until it descends to Hwy T.
-Left on T
-Left on Bassett
-Left onto Cremin's Green, out-and-back. Continue up Bassett.
-Left onto Old Manchester
-left onto Bouquet.
-Left onto Ossenfort (at the big white farm house)
-Cross T, and continue on Ossenfort.
-Continue straight onto Wild Horse Creek
-turn left up Babler Forest as an out-and-back.
-Come back down, and turn right onto Wild Horse Creek, climbing to Rieger.
-Turn left onto Rieger
-Right on Pond.
-left on Smith School Rd.
-Left on BA.
-left into Babler State Park. Once in Babler, turn right onto John Cochran Dr (CCW loop), turn right up Theodore Wirth Drive, and left down Guy Park Dr (past the pool). Turn right back up John Cochran Dr, climb up the first hill, and turn left at the bottom of the other side (also John Cochran Dr (be careful on the gravel!) and duck under gate to exit Babler State Park.
-Immediately turn right up Wild Horse Creek Drive (Doberman.) *GAS STATION*
-Turn right onto Old Eatherton.
-Left onto Orville.
-Right up Shephard.
-Left onto bike path alongisde 109
-Left onto Clayton
-Left on Strecker
-Right on Kehr's Mill
-Left on Saddle Creek Road (immediately after the creek)
-Right on Horseshoe Ridge Road
-Left on Kehr's Mill Road straight back to The Wolf Public House.

*Please take note of where to exit Babler State Park - it is not well marked, and easy to miss. It is at the bottom of the second climb, when you will pass by it at first, and then loop back around to it. It is not very well paved, and you will have to go underneath a metal gate.



Kona Presents the Inaugural Process Challenge - WARNING!!! This video is very steez heavy

Greetings Team Seagal loyalists. While we mill around Team Seagal HQ waiting for the most amzOrs of news pertaining to a new beer sponsOr, what better way to pass the time than watch awesome new videos by KONA. Where better to watch than the summit of Mount Kohler....

 In this video, three of the biggest badasses to enter the world of bicycle racing, battle their way through one of the largest backcountry mountain biking tenures in the world. Their weapon of choice, one of the most comprehensive and superiOrly designed series of mountain bikes ever made: The Kona Process.

Enjoy the long, sweet ride!

This is your Titty, signing off. GTF!


Wanted: Beer Spons0r

SWBT (Single White Bike Team) ISO (In Search Of) a LTR with a willing BBM (Badass Beer Manufacturer) to support regional band of misfit cyclists, all in possession of BBC, in their quest to achieve enlightenment* on and off the bike. We are recently coming off of another LTR that, while prosperous and enjoyable, was unfortunately not meant to last.

Traits for successful product representatives/candidates should ideally include things along these lines:

  • ability to handle random, stinky intestinal gasses for an undetermined period of time (like, really stinky)
  • salty mouth
  • immunity to being offended by jokes with topics including, but not limited to: poo, pee, fermentation of poo and pee, getting high off of the gasses resulting from the fermented poo and pee, cartoonishly large boners, gratuitous homo-eroticism, ugly people, semen from yaks, using beards as a drug for performance-enhancing purposes, worship of impressively-large toilets, vaginas filled with sand, pooping in the woods, stories of heinously disgusting saddle sores and blisters
  • willingness to have your product being drank by toothless Ozark hillbillies who don't know the difference between beer and mouthwash (because they don't know what mouthwash is)
  • possession of minimal camping gear
  • will have seen their fair share of nips being blastified
  • being ready to defend our honor at the mention of being called dirty hipsters or triathletes
  • willingness to be called a jerk, as a term of endearment
  • able to translate ancient Chinese scrolls into English
  • patience with laziness and/or lack of organizational skills on our part
  • possession of huge quantities of delicious beers, preferably in cans
  • general/cursory knowledge or appreciation of the great action heroes and their combined body of work (i.e. Steven Seagal, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Charles Bronson, Sylvester Stallone, Chuck Norris, Carl Weathers, Dolph Lungren, Bruce Willis, etc...)
  • willingness to humor us when we make extremely esoteric, dorky jokes about technical bicycle shit 
  • willingness to assist us when being extremely judgemental and making fun of other people and their un-cool, non-trendy bike setups.
  • having been around bikes in some way, shape, or form in the past
  • generosity when it comes to giving out lots of cool product-related schwag

Potential "deal-breaker" traits may include, but are not limited to:
  • possession of any music by Nickelback or Insane Clown Posse
  • having at any point in your life been called a "juggalo/juggalette" or having professed loyalty to "the Fam"
  • having ever attended "The Gathering" or a Nickelback concert
  • concern for your aerodynamics while riding a bicycle
  • having at any point in your life paid for a Michelob Ultra or Bud Select 55
  • being super gross, teh G4yz0rz, or just really goddamned annoying to be around

 Candidates that think they and their company may be a good fit should first GTF, and then stop by the nearest watering hole to buy us a drink.

*Enlightenment, in this context, may be defined as Superior Attitude and Superior State of Mind


The NECS Visits Team Seagal HQ For 2015 Training Camp v2.0

Greetings, Loyal Team Seagal Haterz and Non-Haterz alike! Something brought you to this page. Perhaps it was your general love of hating us, or how you hate to love us - much like those salt and vinegar potato chips that give you fucked up breath. Well, this time, it was no doubt your desire to want to hear the tale of our very own D0rbs, the New East Coast Syndicate, coming to visit the midwest coast for yet another successful installment in Operation: Make Stormy, T-Tocs, Samuel Axel and B0rsk0rn Jealous (Because They are Huge Jerks).

(T-Tocs and Samuel Axel may have not be too jealous though, considering they were both balls-deep in their first Oregon Outback excursion, and Stormy is busy working to further the insidious Team Seagal Agenda deep within the Kona Bicycle Co.)

It has been in the works for a minute now, Memorial Day weekend, a weekend which would be prime for mutually assured destruction on the shores of Council Bluff Lake. We have been anticipating D0rb's arrival for some time, and have procured tasty provisions for his journey back east towards his upstate home base:

But he didn't just spend all that time driving his newly-bearded-for-this-occasion ass all the way down here just for the best beers to be found this side of Mt. Fuji. He drove down for some stupid fun Ozark riding - yet another thing we can provide lots of.

So after his arrival, and consumption of great food at the Southwest Diner, we put the finishing touches on the packing of the car, and headed down via the scenic route, i.e. "Blood Alley," the requisite visit to the Potosi BP for even more sugary and fermented beverages, and of course, for complete and total domination of the Potosi BP shitter.

The two-car train of myself (SeƱor Crotch) and Jerkward and C-D0rbs made landing on the shores of Group Campsite D to find a number of other jerks, notably Pry0r, Hollywood, Lawman, and St0rtz having already been there. Soon, Titty would arrive. And boy, was it exciting and excellent to be able to step out of the car and smell in the Council Bluff campground air... waft in the scents from the nearby pit-toilets... and revel in the fact that we were once again at Council Bluff. We were all excited to be able to get in a lap before the darkness fell, but we were nearly thwarted by ole' Jerky locking his keys in the Toscani-Mobile:
Some ship-in-a-bottle skills were put to work with the help of a metal coathanger from the neighbors, and crisis was averted. But not before the rest of us departed for dusk-laps around a lake surface that was smooth as glass and provided for multiple Bob Ross Painting moments:

The trail gods must have been a little upset with us though, no doubt for all the beer-soaked piss we leave trailside. As a result they decided to fuck with us a bit by giving W0rnk0rn a bent derailleur hanger, and St0rtz several flat tires and totally fucked spare inner tubes. This put a delay on our return, but nevertheless, we soldiered on and ended up riding in ever-darkening trails that were a problematic from the beach to the campground. Our dilated pupils were more wide open than a the body of a Crank Brothers pedal after it has unexpectedly come off the spindle.

Commence fireside tomfoolery, beers, tubed meats...

...and the next morning headache. But you can't sit around milking a minor hangover all day, because the best cure for that is to shred all kinds of brown pow-pow with your friends all day. So a small strike team involving Tittay, Jerkward, your boy the Coach, C-D0rbs, Pry0r and KW all headed out for a Bluff loop and an excursion to the North Trace chimney and back.
The descents on the North Trace are second to none, and were blazin' like the Good Doctor on his way to "Indo"-nesia. We were thwarted only once thanks to Maxxis sidewalls doing what they do best, and that is getting more ripped than a bunch of cub scouts on a camp trip with Criss Angel:

Our destination reached:

big ass tree, AT the chimney
probably a rabid mountain lion turd, on the big ass tree
*Nico the photographer edited in
North Trace was in fantastic shape, save for 2 big, recently-fallen trees - all a direct result of the efforts of the OTA and all the mowing that is continuously being done. Support the OTA, and sign up for the OT100/OT50. The downhills flowed, no overgrowth. The return trip though, we did find some frosty beverages being dispensed courtesy of one Jerk wielding superior attitude:

From there, we had miles to go. Back to Hwy DD, then down to the Telleck Connect0r, and continuing on for a crush-tastic Burnin' loop around the Lake. Oooo-fucking-weee.

As an aside to this adventure, I must note - this was the first time Ole' Crotchy had ever ridden any part of the Ozark Trail with a geared bike - let alone a modern, fully active 5" of travel full-suspension bike with top-shelf parts. And, it was probably the first time in *at least* 10 years since I had ridden the Council Bluff loop on anything but a singlespeed. This RIP9, on loan from a superior jerk of the utmost degree, was the second most enjoyable 5" I've had between my legs. The first most was named Gabe.

Anyway, as we circled the lake, and as I listened to my hardened t'aint singing the praises of full-suspension bliss over miles of baby-head rock gardens, I couldn't help but revel in this sense of euphoria that comes from riding with friends on your favorite trails in sunny weather. And I'm not talking about that euphoria that comes over you when visiting the pit toilets.

We got back to the campground, D0rbs having crushed shit *way* stronger than he would have you believe ("Look at me! I'm just a retired old man with hip problems who hasn't been riding hardly at all this year!" Whatever, homeboy smashed faces that were nearly half his age.) and was quickly given a special apple-pie post-ride recovery serum from Lawman that was sure to set us off on the right path:
that green Coleman water jug is older than me

Before long, we had ourselves a campfire goin' snap-crackle-pop, and switched our recovery beverages from distilled to carbonated:

Sitting around that campfire, we discussed many things for many hours as we had shit-else to do besides reminisce about times past as we passed around D0rb's jenkem balloon containing D0rb's special NYC East River Blend that had us all speaking in tongues, and translating scrolls that were written on used TP. Through my hazy, faded eyes, I then saw a lone rider coast up on a way-too-cool-for-me contraption, twice as long as a regular bike, with tires twice as wide as a regular tire. Through the fog, I couldn't tell whom it was exactly:

...All I knew was that his arrival heralded a great conversation about driving up to the bluff for sunset instead of riding our bikes, as had been the plan previously. What a great idea. So great, that we concocted a great plan to drive our asses up there, with previous recon missions by Lawman done earlier that day reporting that the Johnson Mountain Road Gate was open.

A badass moment in time, atop a true Ozark mountain. And for a New Yorker, it can be harder to get further away from city life than drinkin' while 4-wheelin' your way through the woods, splashing through mud puddles and ending up a lookout.

The drive up:

Arriving up top with just enough time:

The Karate Kid, Staring Lawman:

Nico whizzing off of a cliff no handed:

We were getting a little crazy with all the cell phone reception up there, the dam bursting with all the emails and texts finally buzzing our phones. So everyone had to get outta there before we started making bad decisions involving being drunk, and posting shit to Facebook or Instagram. Nico and Strove, having ridden their two-person funbike all the way up that hill, saddled on up and actually beat us back down the mountain:

The problem with drinking most of the day, is that by the time night rolls around, all I want to do is smash any food that is put in front of me. And fortunately, we were like Scrooge McDuck. That is, if Scrooge McDuck had a vault of tubed meats, eggs, and bacon to cook up over the grill at midnight:

I definitely had the meat sweats the rest of that night.

Fading further and further into the night, we even found Pizza Time arrive just in time for him to experience all the bullshit we were spewing out of our cakeholes. He may have even developed a contact-translation, being in such proximity to the ancient scrolls that were being unraveled. But alas, my contacts were revolting against my eyeballs, and I had to put myself to bed, left only to dream about being able to take my morning fuji - much like a child goes to bed on Xmas Eve dreaming of opening gift the next morning.

Upon awakening on Sunday, I was so excited to visit the pit toilet, I was almost skipping with glee:

So I grabbed my TP caddy and headed "upslope" for my summit attempt. Upon planting my flag atop the peak, ready to turn last night's meat sweats into the morning meat squirts, I was suddenly distracted by what may have been a congressman in the stall next to me, giving me the ole' Minneapolis Toe Tap:
...when in Rome, right?

Stepping out of the pit toilet, I was a little sore, but felt continuing relief for some time. D0rbs likened it to the feeling that a WW2 bombardier feels - upon unleashing his payload, the dead air before the final landing on/in it's intended target. In WW2, that target was Hamburg or Tokyo. But Memorial Day 2015, that target was the bottom of the pit, which, fortunately, is far enough away to eliminate any threat of the dreaded Spelling Splash-back.

It was very good timing, because that is the same time I came across Punch0r and Ryb0r arriving for OT bike practice! So I got to see nearly everyone this past weekend. Unfortunately, I was unable to re-apply the salve that is known as "OT Dirt," as I had work-related obligations that day. But I know that with all the mileage that was shredded this weekend, we'll be set for some time.

Well, there you have it. Another tale of fun times from your favorite jerks from your least favorite team. We had everything, even the discussions of our bowel movements, which are becoming more expected these days than a picture of a bald eagle in a politician's campaign ad.

Now, enough of that bullshit. Watch this fucking video of "Race Walking" with the Bee Gees dubbed over - it is amazing:

You're Welcome.

-Casey F. Ryback


We Put the "Hair Under" into 2015 Hairy Hundred

Greetings, you Soldiers in the Team Seagal Infantry! Another harrowing weekend just passed us. And by "harrowing," I mean stormy and wet. State championship dreams were crushed, hardened t'aint skin was sanded down to the soft, supple and sinewy muscle tissue underneath, and huge amounts of junk-ass food was consumed.

Now ever since I was a lower case "g" all I wanted to was to go do badass rides all day, every day. But now that I'm a big "G" I can take on fat rides like the Hairy Hundred that starts in Rocheport. So having set my alarm for "early as fuck in the morning" I woke up to find the she cooked the breakfast with no hog - it was gonna be a good day. Packin' up, packin' up, packin' up, packin', I cruised to Drewballz house - not a jacker in sight. Hitting the highway, got the three-wheel motion all the way for the drive westward. However, the closer we got to our destination, the weather went south faster than a West County Retiree in December.

Arriving at the Rocheport exist, the Dynamic Duo of Crotch and Drewballz had a waning resolve, so we placed a call to the home boy. We posed the question to Jerkward, "is it gonna get worse before it gets better?" to which he said "It's already gotten worse!" So our jerk asses paused for a quick vein drain, at which point our boy Snurby-town (Not to be confused with the Pizza Town) attached a fine linen present to the Crotch mobile (A.K.A. the rusty Nissan.) With the proper encouragement from the Jerk and the Nad, we shook our heads, apologized to our t'aints, and pressed on down the road to the start/finish, where we found a large group of like-minded riders, ready to rock it till the wheels fall off, hold up - and sacrifice their general t'aint health for greater glory.

Still running on some overpriced breakfast donuts from Strange Donuts (my bad, they prefer them to be called "dones" there) we were ready to toe up to the line, rain drops falling, getting the saddle pre-moistened. Before I can look around to check my fender alignment, who screeches to a halt right next to me, flowing locks and all, but the fastest dude on two knobby tires in the state, G-Town St0rnm0rtz., who had planned on doing the State MTB Race at Creve Coeur Lake, but came to ride with us on dirt roads in Rocheport upon learning that the race was cancelled. Unfamiliar with the concept of "drop bars," he isn't sure what is reasonable, as exemplified by his hard-man gearing choice:
...a 1x11 setup with a 50t ring. Obviously, he is on the Silver Surfer Plan. What better way to get totally pitted. It's like I always say, big gears mean big results, brah. Before rolling out, we were reminded by Walt's Larry that all the work for this year's event was essentially undertaken by Michelle W., better known as "CX-Dance-Party" Michelle. Nice fucking work.

After some more heartfelt words, we were off in a flurry of restrained excitement, in a very neutral form, for a few miles down the Katy. Your boy, Coach, was somehow at the front of this choo-choo train, not that it is some impressive feat, as we were all at a chill talking pace. But once we made the right turn onto the first climb, all those cute hardbody racerboi's were all jockeying for position to latch onto the lead group before it was too late. It was at this point when I saw our very own Snurb for the last time, as he passed me just in time for me to look down and check myself out in his polished silver rims.

For the next few miles, there were so many rollers, that I thought I was a tasty Quicktrip Taquito:

We were all crushing along, the roads not being as wet as we had expected. That being said, I'm glad I installed the clip-on fenders today, fo' sho. It wasn't long before I came across Hunt0r H0rnry, on a nice little recovery ride from his excursion at the Vino Fondo the previous day. Fortunately, his legs weren't as fresh as they would normally be, which allowed us to cruise along for a while, discussing many things, and coordinate our piss breaks.

I mentioned this totally sweet full suspension bike that I am borrowing from a friend, and that had me thinking about all the annoying phrases that people use when referring to a full suspension bike. Kinda like calling your fixed-gear bicycle your "fixie," moutain bikers often attempt cute phrases, such as:
-full/dual "susser" or "suss"
-full/dual "boinger"
-full/dual "squish" or "squisher"

Used in context:
"Dude-bro, what kind of full-susser did you get? Your boy Richard Chinnuts told me you got a new dual boinger - is that true?

"Totally bro! In fact, I fully squished my dual boingers into ole' Dick Chinnuts' full suss-hole last night! It was a sloppy mess!"

Anyway, so HH and I had a grand ole' time crusing up and down hills, enjoying lovely Mid-Missouri scenery:

 Of course, there were three little towns that we got to go through - Fayette, Glasgow, and New Franklin, all of which allowed us access to Casey's pizza. By the time we reached the 50 mile mark in Glasgow, I was ready to smash me some Casey's pizza squares, and then wash them down with Red Bull, and of course, the second course of pizza/Red Bull burps. Ooooweee. Destroyed, and fueled. Just around the Corner, I was able to borrow a bottle of chain lube at the checkpoint from Michelle, which really helped my ears. At this point in the ride, my chain was getting super loud, and more devoid of lubricant than Criss Angel's "Dungeon of Dreams." I also offered my "services" to this nice lady who couldn't get her front shifter to work. So I whipped out my tool, twisted a few nuts, and before long, her clam was happy. Or is that happy as a clam? Either way, they found out that it is always ladies night when Coach is in the club.

About 2 more paved hills, and we dropped down to the river bottoms, where we would have a headwind that was blowing harder than a juggalo at the Gathering trying to score some meth and a corn-dogs. As we rounded the long, gradual bend in the course, the headwind changed to a partial cross-wind of the type that had me leaning my bike into it. Of course though, This is one of the only times in the whole ride that I was fully solo, with no one to work with. At least once I got to the pavement stretch towards New Franklin, I had the big ring available to me, which was something I did not have at the Tour of Hermann.

I probably didn't need to stop in New Franklin for donuts, but I did anyway, just to spite them donut haterz out there. Well, actually, it was because I thought there were m0ar hills to ride, when in actuality, the course-re-route-due-to-flooding was here - we were directed down the hill to the Katy Trail for the home stretch back to town. It was here that N0rte G0ff and I formed a two-man man-train for the cruise back. We had to stop to distribute inner tubes to an unfortunate soul, at which point we saw Super-Kate crush past us on a mission to find Mr. Warren G finishing glory!

NG and I went for the finishing sprint, where I handed victory over to him, which seemed like the right thing to do. I mean, I don't want to cut anyone down too bad when they see my rippled, bulging quads blast past them in full sprint nearing 50mph. So I reigned in my horses.

It actually turned out to be a very sunny, enjoyable day - made even more enjoyable with some adult beverages and nearly instant pizza as we sat and watched the riders roll in, and got down on a little trash talking with Dano F. of Route 66 fame. Only, he wasn't there to share in it. Poor guy - maybe his ears were burning.

Around the table, we also spread the words of the Memorial Day Melee to be held next weekend at Council Bluff campgrounds, where our boy C-Dorbs will be gracing us with his presence for a few days, of shred-tastic gnar-time. It will, for a couple days, be the second coming of Little Chinatown, where our center for translations will be temporarily based. Watch for random Chinamen down there, because the campsite is booked.

This weekend I also learned about a little show called Pacific Blue - how did I not know about this before? With ridiculous bike shorts and chase scenes like this, how did I miss it? Spot the Trek Y-frame and the Spinergy Rev-X's:

And let's not forget this one:

...taken out by the bollards! Every cyclists knows to watch out for those! Anyway, I see a series of viewing parties/drinking games coming up...

Speaking of drinking, upon arriving home after a long day of riding and avoiding traffic jam-jobs of epic proportions on I-70, I felt that a delicious shower beer was in order:

Stay tuned, because next weekend is doing to rock the dick off your t'aint's nuts.

-Casey F. Ryback


Why You Should Attend Cedar Cross.

Greetings, loyal Team Seagal minions! This is just a friendly reminder from your neighborhood band of merry jerks that the arguably-greatest, most grass-roots ride in the state, Cedar Cross, is on the horizon. "But Crotchy, is there some sort of a sign-up cut-off?"  I have no clue, because I can't go. But I need to make sure that in my abscess (or is that absence?) there are like 500 moar people that do show up to show our boy, the esteemeed Mr. Borb Jorkins (name protected from future internet-search-engine results) the gooey, sticky love that I would normally provide:

I mean, look at those eyes, you can totally trust those eyes:

Those are the eyes of a guy, who doesn't give the awesome gift of a free roof rack to the rider who won, but rather, to the person whose car has the shittiest looking roof rack, in most desperate need of replacement. Or who gifts the frame to the person who finishes last, so that they can have a better bike, in order to do better next time. Or the guy who would have the common courtesy to reciprocate at least a reach-around.

"But Mr. Ryback, I haven't been riding this year at all! In fact, my legs are currently about as useless and without-purpose to me as a helmet visor! What chance do I have of being victorious on such an arduous journey?" The chances are 100%. In fact, just by showing up, your will have achieved victory, because the atmosphere is one of good nature, joviality, and probably some stinky farts (but at least you'll be outside, so they can't linger for long.)

By embarking on this route, you will be even moar certain of higher glory. But you will have to undergo many challenges, such as staring up, from the base of a monstrous gravely climb, and have to deal with the same level of intimidation that a front-row female concert-goer would have had when seeing Led Zeppelin live back in the 70's; just imagine staring up at these pants on stage, and seeing every wrinkly detail of that ridiculous hog:
Nice belt buckle!

In addition to being a superior route full of challenges, it will be a new starting venue full of badassery, comradery, and 100% lacking in douchebaggery - the newly-relocated Red Wheel Bike Shop in Jeff City. And, with Nick and Bob's uniting of their awesome powers for one common goal, does this mean we'll have a 2011 Binder-Brawl Re-match? We can only hope so - but a little encouragement in the form of moonshine may help to ensure it happens. And if so, please have a camera ready, so that your pal Crotch here can enjoy too.

The day may be a day of contrasts - so much pain and suffering on course, all while enjoying huge amounts of superior attitudes and superior states of mind with the people around you. But don't let the bad outweigh the good. Take your hairy pal Crotch, for example - he knows all about contrasts, being a clydesdale singlespeeder who prefers lycra to baggy shorts. That's like being a roadie with hairy legs. Or like being a recumbent rider with carbon soled clipless shoes. Or like being an upper-middle-class bike racer who complains about the cost of their carbon mountain bike wheels. Or like being an straight-edge juggalo with a college degree (or even a high school diploma, for that matter.)  So he knows a thing or two about contrasts, and knows that it isn't *always* a bad thing.

Even though I am unable to attend this year, I am still able to find satisfaction in life with the knowledge that I may have introduced C-Dubs to the concept of shower beers. (You're welcome.) But aside from that, I'll find even moar satisfaction in knowing that boatloads moar people showed up for this year's Cedar Cross after having read this bl0rg. (There isn't really a good feedback loop for that though, so I'll just imagine it.)

Speaking of imagining things, imagine my surprise at seeing the un-altered packaging material used upon unboxing a new tandem bicycle the other day:
I did not alter this in any way - it was the chainguard protector!
"Experiencing" that cardboard trouser snake would have you shitting pancakes for a week!

I'll leave you to think about that photo for a while. More to come...

-Casey F. Ryback

P.S. Here is why you should watch the show "Silicon Valley" right fucking now. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pE4LVSESyXc&feature=youtube_gdata