DECLINE 2008 magazine - "A Downhiller's Dream."...
"BIG and IN your Face!"...
"It's Pure Downhill at its Best."...
"2,476 feet of Vert."
Read the whole article (pdf) here.
3.12.08 - Make the Trip
Click Here for All Whiteface Mountain Bike Park Details.
DECLINE 2008 magazine -
"A Downhiller's Dream."...
"BIG and IN your Face!"...
"It's Pure Downhill at its Best."...
"2,476 feet of Vert."
Read the whole article (pdf) here.
DECLINE 2008 magazine - "A Downhiller's Dream."...
"BIG and IN your Face!"...
"It's Pure Downhill at its Best."...
"2,476 feet of Vert."
Read the whole article (pdf) here.
12.10.07
This LIGHT will SAVE your LIFE.For the past year and half, I have been work commuting 40 mls pr day, NJ > NYC > NJ. With the exception of really bad weather (below 25f, heavy snow or rain). As you all know really good lights are top of the list to stay alive when riding the shoulder alongside motorists.
Even with lots of reflective material, dual Planet Bike Alias Ultra Bright head-lights and a Blackburn 6 LED tail-light... this single Emergency Strobe (1"D" battery) hands down is the most visible, almost offensive, attention grabbing signal I have ever owned. It is military spec’d and certified. It has lasted over 10 years of commutes, tours, back woods camping, rafting and depending on who needed it that day it serviced and protected 5 different riders at any given time thus far. Optimal placement would be center of your back (on a pack) or at the end of a rack not obscured by any clothing or bags.
You can easily find this light for less than $25 USD at any quality outdoor/camping gear retailer. Considering that you may spend $1-5k on your bike, $2-300.00 on clothing and packs, and $150-400 on head/tail lights… another $25 for this no frills real deal bomb proof retina burner is a must.
Now go ride, and get home safe.
11.05.07 - and then there were 12.
L>R: Brett (hardtale70 on mtbnj), Erik (tmxownrsgrp), JimG, Al (Seabass), ???, Jae (jhchoi), Sean squatting (anrothar on mtbnj), Ryan (xc6701 on mtbnj), Jamie (jbogner), Techen (Stoked), Chris (stuffy), and Simon (Gumby).
Having ridden Blue Mountain for over 10 years I never managed to go further than 18 miles in a day. Trails were either undeveloped or maps unavailable, whatever the reason an epic session just never seemed feasible in the backwoods of Peekskill.
Fate would have it that over time several very devoted and skilled trail builders, and true leaders of our sport / passion in life, would create a network of award winning mtb trails at Blue Mountain. For them I am ever grateful and indebted.
Beautiful and accurate maps, sustainable and bombproof trails of every caliber are the fruit from years of hard work. The long sought after epic was now inevitable and in the works. Jamie Bogner of NYCMTB.com cracked the code and strung together close to 30 miles of the reservation’s trail network. All without backtracking or crossing over the same ground twice. Not to mention 95% of the route planned utilized each segment of trail in its best possible direction.
The conditions were near perfect. Other than the October cold and many unfortunate mechanical setbacks, almost half of the original group that began finished intact and very happy. The moment we finished I thought to myself how bad ass that was, that we were the first twelve to complete a Blue Mt epic and that I couldn’t wait for it to happen again next October in 2008, so my brother could do it with me.
10.17.07
Opening day at Diablo this season my brother and I like many other repeat DH offenders found new joy and adrenaline on a freshly cut and sculpted trail called Tempest.
On the fourth run down, visions of ROAM and the Collective took over. The dirt was pretty dry that day, maybe the sun was in his eyes or was the speed just cranked one notch to high. SNAP! Off a small boulder drop into a left berm my bros left leg came down first and took all the impact. No more knee.
Well in short this season was spent repairing and healing. He's comin back for sure, but even with a lot of smack talk from the couch, where he will be mentally come next spring... I'm afraid to speculate.
This brings me to a piece written by Rob Warner. Words of wisdom I often preach myself although with a grain of caution, always be honest with yourself, respect where your limits are so you can push them farther.
"It's not the break that hurts, It's the getting better." (nsmb.com)
Breaking bones really sucks, the initial mind blowing pain of a good break can be way too much to take as you like on the ground writhing in an uncompromising agony. On occasions I've honestly wished that someone would shoot me as I've been encompassed by indescribable pain. Sometimes you're pretty sure something's bust but adrenaline can get you to the end of the race. Always though denial kicks in, it'll be "a bad sprain" or "I think I've got away with that," nothing will ever let you admit to yourself you might be sitting in a pot for the next six weeks or more until you hear it from the horse's, or doctor's more appropriately, mouth.
The news always hits me hard, so hard, so hard it's one of the only things in adulthood to make me well up on a regular basis; I find it utterly crushing to know another season is to go by while I sit in front of the telly. Life is severely disrupted but nothing compares to the feeling of knowing that months, years even, of preparation are shot down in a millisecond and, while you get fatter and slower the rest of your sporting world marches on regardless, leaving you behind again. Every time I get hurt some clever soul (usually my old man) always gives it, "aren't you getting too old for all this?" to which I reply with a shrug of the shoulders or a wry smile, while an indescribable rage fills me from the inside. To those people I ultimately feel sorrow as they clearly don't know what life is about.
Wrap yourself in cotton and wool and never leave the house, what kind of existence is that? I live for those moments of having a bike drifting around underneath me barely in my control, for those runs where I'm going so fast my focus leaves only a jigsaw of moments to piece together through a hazy cloud of euphoria. Days and weeks after a good race those feeling stay with me and make the ultimate ride worth almost the ultimate price.
Over the years I've smashed and broken this body of mine to pieces, five surgeries and counting, five broken ankles, a snapped leg, a wrecked knee, destroyed hips, wrecked back, broken hand, bust wrist, three times, bust elbow, broken shoulder blade, a dozen broken ribs, separated my ribs from my spine, complete separation of my shoulder, severe nerve compression making my arm useless for two months, from prolapsing a disc in my neck and concussions that have left me with a recurring blindness in on eye and put on top of the chronic fatigue syndrome from the party lifestyle and you have to ask yourself was it all worth it? Well it was, and it still is caus I'm not ever going to stop and I'd do it all again and more because this is living, this is what it's all about. There's no point taking an immaculate corpse to the grave, make sure you've worn it out to the max, played hard in it and lived your life to the full because riding is life and the only thing that'll slow you down is picking up the pieces after a big one. (end)
... My brother's response,
On the fourth run down, visions of ROAM and the Collective took over. The dirt was pretty dry that day, maybe the sun was in his eyes or was the speed just cranked one notch to high. SNAP! Off a small boulder drop into a left berm my bros left leg came down first and took all the impact. No more knee.
Well in short this season was spent repairing and healing. He's comin back for sure, but even with a lot of smack talk from the couch, where he will be mentally come next spring... I'm afraid to speculate.
This brings me to a piece written by Rob Warner. Words of wisdom I often preach myself although with a grain of caution, always be honest with yourself, respect where your limits are so you can push them farther.
"It's not the break that hurts, It's the getting better." (nsmb.com)
Breaking bones really sucks, the initial mind blowing pain of a good break can be way too much to take as you like on the ground writhing in an uncompromising agony. On occasions I've honestly wished that someone would shoot me as I've been encompassed by indescribable pain. Sometimes you're pretty sure something's bust but adrenaline can get you to the end of the race. Always though denial kicks in, it'll be "a bad sprain" or "I think I've got away with that," nothing will ever let you admit to yourself you might be sitting in a pot for the next six weeks or more until you hear it from the horse's, or doctor's more appropriately, mouth.
The news always hits me hard, so hard, so hard it's one of the only things in adulthood to make me well up on a regular basis; I find it utterly crushing to know another season is to go by while I sit in front of the telly. Life is severely disrupted but nothing compares to the feeling of knowing that months, years even, of preparation are shot down in a millisecond and, while you get fatter and slower the rest of your sporting world marches on regardless, leaving you behind again. Every time I get hurt some clever soul (usually my old man) always gives it, "aren't you getting too old for all this?" to which I reply with a shrug of the shoulders or a wry smile, while an indescribable rage fills me from the inside. To those people I ultimately feel sorrow as they clearly don't know what life is about.
Wrap yourself in cotton and wool and never leave the house, what kind of existence is that? I live for those moments of having a bike drifting around underneath me barely in my control, for those runs where I'm going so fast my focus leaves only a jigsaw of moments to piece together through a hazy cloud of euphoria. Days and weeks after a good race those feeling stay with me and make the ultimate ride worth almost the ultimate price.
Over the years I've smashed and broken this body of mine to pieces, five surgeries and counting, five broken ankles, a snapped leg, a wrecked knee, destroyed hips, wrecked back, broken hand, bust wrist, three times, bust elbow, broken shoulder blade, a dozen broken ribs, separated my ribs from my spine, complete separation of my shoulder, severe nerve compression making my arm useless for two months, from prolapsing a disc in my neck and concussions that have left me with a recurring blindness in on eye and put on top of the chronic fatigue syndrome from the party lifestyle and you have to ask yourself was it all worth it? Well it was, and it still is caus I'm not ever going to stop and I'd do it all again and more because this is living, this is what it's all about. There's no point taking an immaculate corpse to the grave, make sure you've worn it out to the max, played hard in it and lived your life to the full because riding is life and the only thing that'll slow you down is picking up the pieces after a big one. (end)
... My brother's response,
"No fucking Joke!
I need to ride!! Ride Hard!!!
...And Fly..."
See why I'm scared.
10.16.07
Mission Statement:
As of now this is an unguided attempt to share with and inspire friends, family and those that stumble in this direction my reasons to choose a life of creation, active outdoor living, and the refusal to accept no as an answer.
Maybe what I share with you will spark an idea, or better yet galvanize a thought you have been hesitant to act upon.
As of now this is an unguided attempt to share with and inspire friends, family and those that stumble in this direction my reasons to choose a life of creation, active outdoor living, and the refusal to accept no as an answer.
Maybe what I share with you will spark an idea, or better yet galvanize a thought you have been hesitant to act upon.
10.15.07
If you have found this site and are reading this, then there should be no need for an explanation. For those of you that don’t get it let me try and explain. Bikes are possibly the greatest single invention ever conceived by mankind. Its simplicity of purpose and form has allowed infinite interpretation. The TMX by Brooklyn Machine Works, Bklyn, NY is in a class by itself. The Free Ride and Down Hill movement demanded builders to think differently about what a bike should be able to do, hence the TMX was born. There are many designs that stand alone in the history of bicycling. But for FR+DH BMW broke all the rules and opened the doors for future builders and designers to create the unthinkable.
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