To my friend's friend. You did her well. Was there for her no matter how hard the terrain,

through thick and thin and then it was time to snap. She's too much for you Lamar - you knew it.

It took her a while to realize the same. I know you'll welcome the new member of the family like the champ you are. Watch out. She's gonna step on a lot of ticks and you'll be proud.

Cause you taught her how. RIP Lamar.

So Long Friend

Yesterday, Lamar died.
It was the end of a slow agonizing death. We went as far as we could go together. He gave out over a little log in the woods. It would have been right to leave him there beside it, but I carried my fallen comrade to the road. For those of you in the know, Lamar is my Trek 3700 - starter MTB. He weighs- waaaay too much, won't shift when asked but will slip in into granny gear at the most inappropriate time, and has more scratches and dents than paint on his frame. We had a lot of fun together. He took the brunt of my learning curve -must have crashed 5 times a day when I first clipped in. He would always be ready to carry on no matter how many rocks, trees and parking lots we fell into.
Any day now, I will be welcoming into our family a brand new Stumpy 29r. The gears will switch the second I ask, the brakes (disk brakes mind you) will work and the ride will be so much lighter and sweeter. I dream about floating thru the woods rolling over any tree and keeping up with the rest of the Ticks. But I secretly wonder if I'll miss him. Will the thrill of the ride be gone - never knowing if your brakes work or if your gear will spontaneously change as you are killing yourself to climb a mole hill? Or the randomness of your chain flying off at the worst time possible. I'm not sure. Will Stumpy (Jerome) carry a funny horn with pride or will he be waay too above that and just fierce? I wonder.
Here's to you Lamar - for all the good times and the bad. You'll make a nice guest bike or an organ donor for our other bikes - either way - you made me love what I do.
Fare well.

Confessions of a burnt out Tick

Forgive me Father for I have sinned. Its been 4 days since I last got sweet air. Tomorrow I shall say five "Hell Yeahs" and ten "Woo Hoos" in the woods. I will be surrounded by beautiful nature and ride whenever and wherever the day takes me.

Instead of day after day doing something that sucks - do something that rocks. Faith in happiness, joy and nature. A belief that when there is joy and peace the rest will be taken care of. Sometimes you have to jump off the cliff and have faith that you will land upright and be propelled forward.

About to jump......

Is that A ROADIE in the WOODS?

Its been a while..... a lot has happened since the onset of the invasion of the chiggers. Wounds have heeled, and decisions have been made. Team Bloated Tick attempted its first race ever! Too much hard training before the race left only 1 tick standing for the race. Unfortunately that tick had no GPS and got lost in the woods, but it was still a great day and lots of fun!

Graduation day is just around the corner and a new 29er stumpJumper is on the way. Christmas comes early this year to 15!

Of major note was a sighting in the woods - almost as rare as the GREAT SASQUATCH ------- A ROAD TICK! Yes! And believe it or not the words "this is fun" actually left the lips of R. Cabs!!!

Rain and wind are swirling around 15 this morning - hoping for a break to get in a run or some woods action! Fall is the best season for Bloated Ticks!

Chiggers

Its ending - I just know it! The light is different, the people are getting antsy, and the chiggers are attacking me. Counting down to fall, the best season of the year for Bloated Ticks! Been out 4 days in a row finished out last night on the Swtichbacks and Farmstand. Finally getting my balance back and feeling comfortable again on the bike - happily slogging thru deep sandy hairpin turns! In love once again!

What?

Are these not our friends?

Sorry, but cannot understand how someone who clearly hurts these innocent creatures is allowed not just back but back to make big money!!!

Is dog fighting not a criminal offense or maybe it should be! Dogs are the best friends man has and deserve nothing but love and kindness. Our world supports this more today than in years past.

It's important to support not bloating big industry cashing in on the most heinous acts of cruelty.

Here's to our friends...

Bow to the wow!!!!!

School of Hard Knocks

There are so many pretty colors and the landscape is all bumpy and lumpy. Fall in New England? A poppy field in Burma? An acid trip? Nope - just my body. The collection of bruises and lumps rival most car accident victims. A weak woo to the ouch. Wild and untamed trails - 1 / 15 v schleck - 0.

There are moments in life that remind you that yes, you are human. I am not a flying superhero. I shall not see a giant log as a launching pad into space. Frickin gravity. Today I feel human. I am reminded of this every time I move, sit, or blink.

There were lessons learned yesterday, still tying to replay most of them in my head. Breathe, control, go slower, take your time - don't get angry at your bike and drive over it in the driveway!

It is with great reflection and total openness that I look to the woods and ask - WWTD? (what would tick do) - I know the answer. Take some Alieve and get your ass back on that bike. That's the problem with the Bloated Tick - once you believe there is no turning back, the freedom and purest of highs tug at your heart and you know that the bruises will heal and the sweet air will be calling.

The one and only

It's Monday which means Wooo to the hooo! Pictures tell a thousand words. Can you say ouch? Gotta hand it to you, me sitting in a/c waiting to hear how it goes hoping this doesn't happen. But the night is young and the woods are wild. We'll hear

Bloated Ticks out early

Team BT left b/e this morning on a "do over" ride. Mo had a score to settle with that evil log - he got some sweet air this time. Log - 1 Mo -1 can't wait for the final score....

Saved myself for Tomorow night's ride - want to be fresh for riding with the girls so instead of riding to Montauk and then riding back on the dunes as the Ghost suggested we went for a nice 1.5 hr ride.

What a difference the clips make and the seat height - who knew. The Ghost pointed out that I'm missing gears and that I cracked off some spokes from one of the disks - huh, go figure, no wonder why the gear is slipping. Oh well. Looks like its time to go bike shopping. I wonder if I can get one that gets SUPER sweet air and has room for like 4 horns?

There is no better way to start the day than flying down a hill mildly out of control screeming woohoo - that is total freedom.

Is it to early for a beer?

The Taj

We are all here. But the metaphorical tick continues to bloat with lights, imports, screams and not a care in the world for those that are still and will always be here. And are these MT's not aware that irrigation systems bring on the water our beloved skeeters - worst in 140 years- love to breed in. Would a long, green wound up looking object hooked up to a faucet sometimes called a hose not suffice? The mere action of turning it on and off would provide the control they so desperately seek. Promise.

We are still here

.....and there were farm fields full of potatoes and corn. There was a huge dairy farm North of the highway, it used to stink - I would look for the cows wading in the pond as we drove by. There were a few houses along the ocean but no one really wanted to live over there because it was too far from town and the power would go out anytime the wind blew. You could park on main street and get a table in a restaurant without being handed a flashing beeper and a lie about a 20 minute wait. In fact, the owner of the restaurant usually greeted us at the door and would talk to us about our family because we all went to school together. On the weekend Hildi's was the place where most people would grab brunch. A lot of kids learned to wait tables there or Conca and no one really cared if they messed up the order, you were just happy to see them trying.
The Village would be full of Ferrari's on Saturday because of the Raceway. Those people all seemed nice enough. I used to fall asleep listening to the sound of their engines carrying down off the hill to the village.
Everyone cared or didn't for their property. Not many had the help of an Arborist or a complete lawn package. Most EVEN mowed their own lawn.
Now things are different. There is more money and less wealth. Most moved away and those that stayed found their niche and are quite comfortable. There are a few of us middle class folks left here and if you listen very carefully you can still hear us mowing our lawn and talking to our neighbors over the fence and even getting together for a beer or two without starting an engine.
You know who we are when we look at you funny as you fill your driveway with contractors, advisers, lawn boys, pool boys, cleaning ladies and caterers and wonder why you are all stressed out. We are still here.

mornin

we at 17 up early here, watching 762 trying to decide what mosquito activity is.
Read article suggesting biggest offenders at yosemite are bikers riding while intoxicated, fines issued. Observed for the most part quiet on bt drive except for the headlights of neighbors friends
either not realizing or careless about where they shine when departing for the evening. Talking about even side of street of course. More later...

wow to the owww!!!

I, a mere mortal "roadie" enjoy watching these bloated ticks creeping home, legs smashed, banged up, screaming "woo to the hoo" bloated with exhilaration.
Particularly enjoy viewing from home base, feet up, a/c on, no muck, watching these MTB ticks, covered in blood, insects, sweat express what they deem as getting some sweet air.
The air is sooo sweet where I sit, I swear.

Chasing the Ghost

Its hot. Its humid. We skipped the Monday ride in favor of cocktail hour at Wild Thyme. - That's how the Bloated Tick do.

Out with the Ghost tonight - Beaver Dam down to 2 Holes and back on the Jump trail. We lost a set of superfluous handlebars along the way thanks to the Ghost. Mo Schleck got his first crash (Endo over the handlebars) trying to jump a log that was too high up over the trail with a foot of air between it and the ground. A proud moment watching the Mo hurl through the air and then slide on his head/shoulder down the trail. I told him that we are not filming Jackass he should wait to do such advanced tricks when the cameras are on.

"Tips:
Don't make this trick last too long. You don't want to flip forward, landing on your head.
This trick is best performed on grass that can get ruined without anyone caring.
It is also useful to endo on smooth, hard surfaces, as the tires will benefit from increased amounts of grip, and the surface integrity will make it easier to modulate the brake pressure accurately, prolonging the endo and further impressing your friends and any attractive bystanders. "

Other than the sweet tricks and air it was a pretty uneventful ride for me - made it two hours without a crash - a first since getting clips. Only had one minor group pile up due to skidd out on soft sand.

Returned to the BT base for grubb and to advise on packs of frozen veggies for cooling down lumps and bumps.

Woo to tha Hoo.

3 Gurlz, 33 Falls 3 Flats and 3 Hours

Swarming bugs, flat tires and bloody legs. Must be a day out at MTK. First time out to Hither Woods clipped in. Crazy? Probably. Fun? Hell to the yeah! EJ led the epic ride up to the dump, lost boulder, along the shore down to Fresh Pond (almost) and up Petticoat trail (where the hell were we - Arizona? or in the middle of a Deep Woods Off commercial?) Real women use 100% Deet . Now we know.
Returned home with a layer of sand, sweat and grease stains from falling still feeling cleaner than any day sitting at a desk pushing paper. I have almost earned my Bloatick band.

The day after:
BONK - not even Gu could save me on my relaxing marital ride out to CPP. The smallest mound loomed up to the sky. The air was bugs, and two soft tires made a quick "out and back" an eco challenge. Finally home! Is it noon yet? Is the Bloated Tick open? Wrapping up the weekend with some beer and bandaids sounds so right.

What the F#*@ is the Bloated Tick

No Idea. But I do know that the BT exists only in the woods, near the water and close to a pint or 10 of ale. Is it a place, person, thing, religion or lifestyle? Only time will tell. Maybe we are all looking for the BT? Maybe no one cares? Maybe the BT is a crusade? That sounds better!
A crusade in the name of getting dirty and having fun without drama - country style. Perhaps its a gang of Appalachian Mountain men who gather in the woods to blow on jugs and make home woven handicrafts under the cover of night without judgement? Plausible.

I'm thinking The Bloated Tick is more of an all seeing, all knowing being that whispers in your ear - "Hey Asshole its time to get out to the woods and shut down that voice that says you can't"
Yeah that's it.