New Team Saddle

Criss Angel stopped by the shop today, and surprisingly, he had a saddle custom made had his favorite things written on it:

What do you think the other side said?

-Casey F. Ryback


I Don't Think He Knows Yet

Steven Seagal has a Facebook Page. (No surprises there.) Of course, I, Crorsror orF. Rorbrorck, have "liked" his page, as I need to keep updated on his goings on. Periodically, he, or whomever is the "admin" is for his FB page, will post an update that is speaking to the fans, informing them of a new TV show or some media appearance.

In this screenshot, notice the last statement in his update:

This isn't the first time I've noticed this - but I've come to realize that this is how they "sign" their updates - by referring to his/their support crew as "Team Seagal." (And the "TJ Team" refers to his new show coming out, called "True Justice.")

This is too awesome.

 -Casey F. Ryback


4 Jerks, 5 Sunsets & 123 miles of Arizona Singletrack

This all went down the week before last.  Our elite battalion of Jerks left the shores of the Mississippi in the wee morning hours under the cover of darkness. Petty Officers Toscani (your Author),  Cold,  & Boyd were on board, hand-picked from a select group of highly trained C.L.T.'s.  A few hours passed and we found ourselves very far away from Team Seagal HQ,  several thousand miles to both the south and west...in Phoenix.  Soon, we began to travel north in a rented Chevrolet HHR, gaining elevation steadily.   High in the Bradshaw Mountains overlooking Prescott, AZ we finally met with our contact, the elusive and crafty Dr. Wesley McLaren:

Handsome chap, right?  Tall, dark and mulleted.
A joyous moment was shared by all as our traveling troupe was reunited with our Doctor friend.  Let us take a closer look at this fearless war-horse, the beauty radiating from his being is blinding:    

Wholly MAckrel.   Promote this man! I really like the cut of his jib.  Wesley was an excellent host.  We shipped our steeds out to him in boxes prior to our departure from St. Louis.  The kind Doctor had our rides assembled and roaming freely in his fertile pasture when we arrived.  I'd like to show you the lovely Kona's we used to navigate Dr's sweet, native singletrack:

Doctors sled, a Kula Deluxe 2-9:

Orin "Leg Titty" Boyd pilots this 2012 Unit:

Your Author, Nikorn Tornornski gets dirty atop this 2010 Unit:

Say howdy to Hawg Jaws, Jonathan Cold's 2009 Big Unit:

With the HHR parked and our steeds readied it was finally time to straddle the saddles.  Out Doctor's back door we went in search of fine trails to roll across with our fancy hard tails.  Ohh mama, we did not have to look very hard...

The next two & a half days were filled with many ups and downs, literally.  With Doctor as our guide we slayed nine combined hours of daylight on three separate rides through some of the finest terrain Prescott has to offer.  Being mid-week we pretty much had the trails all to ourselves.  Thursdays ride was my favorite, we crushed much of the Whiskey Off-Road course (25 mile loop) and a whole lot more.  Daytime temps in the low 60s and a complete lack of humidity made for some of the most comfortable riding conditions some jerk from MO could ever imagine.

The only reason we had to stop riding in Prescott and pile back into the HHR was to head to Sedona. Time to non-race!  Its tough not to call this ride the highlight of our trip; its the main reason we'd traveled so far to this strange state where all the plants are pointy and sharp.

We arrived in Red Rock County early on Friday evening and set-up our secret desert campsite.
Check it:

Dr, Stove, & Mrs. Doctor give the salute.
Pointy and sharp and trying to kill me.  Right outside my back door. 
We built a big fire.
The Sedona BFL started promptly at 8:00 am the next morning, which was Saturday.  We were quite excited for this, the first race of the season, especially because it would be the first race in our new kits.  Take a look at your heroes, the four of us assembled in the IGA parking lot, a half a mile from the start line. Promptly, at about 8:17 am.
The HHR can be viewed just to Nico's left in this photo. 
Of course, we went on to have a fabulous day in the saddle.  Riding Sedona red rock all day long was very good.  Orin Boyd likened the SBFL to a 9 hour, 51 mile Chubb lap.  I'd have to agree.

D to the R gittin' RAD

Steel 29ers playing in the rocks

Leg Titty texting his Lady.
Ride them both.

Found on the trail a few hours in,  I'm pretty sure this was imported from Duranog.
Finishing this self-supported, un-marked monster called for quite a celebration.  The MVP of the day?  My vote is for the GPS unit attached to my handlebars.  Upon completion, non-racers gathered for endless pizza and beer at the Bike & Bean which had a pretty nice view, but very small bathrooms.  Scott Morris of Tuscon, AZ and Travis Brown of Durango, CO were named co-winners of this amazing non-race which did not cost a thing, just like MFXC 2012, a Team Seagal Non-Race that you should enter right now.

Way to crush Mr. Boyd.

Drrty feets.
The 2012 SBFL was crushed and is now in the rear-view.  C ya, cain't wait to come back next year!

Happily & safely buckled into the HHR we departed the secret desert campground and once again began the trek south across the Verde Valley towards Prescott.  After descending several thousand feet from Sedona it was time to gain it all back with an accent of Mt. Mingus, we were taking the scenic route back.  Three-quarters of the way up Mingus, clinging bravely to the steep cliff side is the visually stunning town of Jerome, AZ and one stellar breakfast chimichanga.

Back in Prescott, we had time for one last sunset.  Dr. and Mrs. Dr. took us to the Granite Dells for some spectacular views.  Of course we went for another nice ride in Prescott the following morning.  Then we came home.

Champagne poppin'- thanks Lori!

I'm speechless.

Thanks for stopping by and thank you to Doctor,  who is one huge Jerk.


The Long Slow Burn

Greetings, jerks. When the temperatures hit 80 degrees for the first time this season, there is only one thing to do, if not tied down by work.

Hit the trail.

Snurb and I had great ambitions today, 50+ miles worth of lake-side trail, leading into Middlefork magic. But instead, we only got a paltry 42. Pishaw.

The incredible onslaught of hills took advantage of our t'aints, mine having only gotten less than 5 hours of sleep the previous night. My trail ride closely paralleled this dog's run on the obstacle course:

The ride was going well, and then my legs took a gigantic shit all over the trail. We decided on a couple of bail-outs, which fortunately had tailwinds. Nevertheless, before our t'aintal regions became fully shredded and our wrists became fully snapped, we managed to properly shred the singletrack leading to CR 72, the waterfall, Hwy 49, Barton Fen, Buick Mine Road, though we had to bail on Shasta. Sorry, buddy. 

The ride home kept us amused - passing through Caledonia we laughed at the custom electrical tape dog on the pedestrian sign:

Those crazy kids!
 A quick stop for food before arriving at home, where more delicious food awaited me, courtesy of Mrs. Crotch:

Moar to come.

-Casey F. Ryback



Jerks and Jerkettes,

MFXC III is quickly approaching.

Greetings from the PNW. Masson Storm here to tell you about a little non race we run every spring, and how you can be a part of it! So far I've received about a dozen entires, and if you are one of them u should receive the non race deets sometime next week! If you have no idea what I'm talking about go HERE.

ps Take a tip from George Parros and bring a gun to this knife fight!

Mr. WA

The Newest Weapon in our Arsenal

Greetings, mid-week slaves. As a long time cyclist who enjoys long days in the saddle, I put comfort at or near the top of my priority list when riding. I mean, let's face it - it's hard to shred when I'm not floating on a cloud of upright bar-ends and gel saddle covers with drawstrings. However, I exclusively train on a crazy-expensive, super-aggressive, 13.1 pound road bike that is Pro As Fuck. It requires me to lean over in a mega-horizontal position, which is extremely Euro. That's why I can't be seen riding an upright hybrid with a boner stem.

Fortunately for me and all others like me, there is hope. With this new product, I can continue to ride that road bike I was talking about, which will make me keep my Euro-cred, yet allow me to be more comfortable than Criss Angel on his throne of boys:

For moar information, check out there website: BackUpBarz.

That's "Barz" with "Z," brah.

Better get yours ordered now, because the cats out of the bag. Think of how useful they'll be at Cedar Cross.

-Casey F. Ryback



 Greetings, Team Seagal fiends. Tired of your life having more bullshit than a psychic trade show? Well, we have the (a) solution for you, though it won't be until June 2nd:  the annual Missouri Singlespeed Championships! It may seem like an odd day of the year, but when you think about it, all this cool shit happened in Canada on June 2nd: Beeyotch!

There have been many glorious times had in the past at Singlespeed-Only events, usually being homo-erotic, Jefferson City style. Last year we found new trails. In 2010, we were Back in Denim. In 2009, we got really drunk, rasseled in the field, and were introduced to "Masson." Could you possibly want want to miss the crazy hijinks and wacky misadventures? Especially when the Trail Giant himself, Man Sperman, er, I mean, Dan Fuhrmann, had a hand (or at least one of his appendages) in the "mud" to help create the very trails on which we will be shredding come June 2nd.

Now of course, this is the same day as another highly regarded race/experience taking place just across our great state's border - the Dirty Kanzaa 200, otherwise known as "T'aint Kryptonite" to yours truly. 200 gravelly miles would no doubt make my t'aint as grizzled as Kris Kristofferson's face:
For those of us mere mortals, who have trouble with the thought of their t'aint becoming an aged country music star, come to the SSC race. And if your don't have a singlespeed, grab some duct tape and rape, I mean, wrap, your shifters.

Check out the link here to find out all the info you need.

This shit is gonna be metal. Like windmill headbanging metal:

-Casey F. Ryback