I was still bitter there would be no 2009 Turnpike Super Bowl, but I shook the weak hangover from the Eagles and Steelers games the night before, and shared one last round of goodbyes with the in-laws. It was time for me to head back home to pack the last few things and put the last bike into storage. We’re moving out of the country for a couple years. Friends, family, comfort and familiarity are being left behind in favor of the prospect of adventure in a new land and all that comes with it.

I’ve done this drive at least 100 times, but I was sort of bored and wanted my new GPS guide me home from south Jersey. Within about five miles, the comforting (yet creepy) woman’s voice on the TomTom directed me to turn off my known path. Before I knew it I was about to cross the Betsy Ross Bridge, which spans the Delaware River and dumps you out on I-95 up around north Philly somewhere.

I’ve lived in the Philadelphia area for more than ten years, and I’ve never found myself crossing the Betsy Ross. It’s not that I’ve avoided it, but I just never really had a reason to cross it. To me, it was just the name of a structure mentioned in the traffic reports on the radio. Only thirty minutes into this new route, and I’d already found something different…and sort of exciting.

Philadelphia is known for having thousands of amazing murals on the sides of buildings. There are books about them, and all sorts of organized tours guide people all around the city to view them. I’ve seen a lot of them in my twelve years in and around town. My particular favorite is the four-story portrait of ex-mayor and South Philly hero Frank Rizzo. As I made my way down 95 towards 676, right before Center City I caught a glimpse of a mural while having one eye on the GPS making sure it really knew where it was taking me.

But then I did a double-take on the mural. Yep…there was definitely bicycle componentry in that mural. I slowed down as much as someone could on I-95 without becoming the subject of one of those traffic reports on the radio. I’d never seen this bright block-wide mural before, and that fact set my mind reeling for the next thirty minutes of my drive home.

I like to think that I thrive on exploration, learning and adventure, and that it comes easy. But it’s funny how and where we sometimes find the catalyst for such things. It’s also odd how we can become complacent and think adventure can be found in foreign lands, when it can easily be found right here with just a little effort.

Some weeks ago I noticed that the large chainring on my cyclocross-style commuting bike was badly and unexpectedly worn – the teeth looked like pointy little shark teeth, rather than the rounded swells they should be. It wasn’t all that old, but it did go through some nasty street slush and muck this past spring.

So I set out to replace it. The chain was also worn, but fortunately not to the point that it had caused the other chainring and the cogset to assume similarly wrong shapes. Whew. I got a new chainring, but found that the new one, while being very nearly identical, was just a slice of a millimeter or so thinner at the bolt holes. So I went in search of spacers at the local shops. One mechanic graciously spent about 15 minutes searching in basement bins and came up with four of the five I needed. Close enough for now.

Of course, like many errands of this nature, it took me a few days to do this shopping, and in the meantime I had thoroughly cleaned the cranks and bottom bracket, and applied grease where necessary. Since I did all that, I figured I might as well clean the cogset too. At some point during the past six months I had experimented with a vegetable-oil lube, decided I didn’t like it, and switched back to my trusty Boeshield T-9… but I had neglected to clean all of the old lube off of the drivetrain. The resulting paraffin/oil/grime mixture had encrusted itself onto the parts like some sort of evil alien lichen, and needed several more days of soaking in degreaser, plus scrubbing with toothbrushes and rags, to remove.

So while the cogset was off I decided to check out the hub internals. Lots of cleaning and regreasing there too. Next, might as well true up the rear wheel, which meant bringing it into the office. Rather, remembering to bring it in to the office.

It seems the Chris King headset was the only part that barely needed any attention, just a little wiping. Pretty impressive.

So while my bike was mostly disassembled, I thought I might as well replace the cables too. We happened to have scored a couple sets of Gore RideOn cables to test at Interbike. I took the old cork tape off the bars and cleaned the adhesive residue off, only to find a suspicious-looking line… was that a crack?

Yes it was, and there was a matching one on the other side. I inquired with the fine folks at Easton and found out that the older yellow paint on my bars was not as flexible as the newer stuff, so it was possible that the cracks were not structural. However, I wasn’t totally sure of the exact age of the bars, as they’d come on the bike when it was a tester, and while I hadn’t crashed the “holy heck” out of them (in the words of the Easton rep, Sean Coffey), they had survived quite a few minor bangs. Witness the shifters:

So new handlebars were also in order.

Then there were the brakes… this bike has Avid BB Road mechanical disc brakes, which as the name implies, contain actual ball bearings, which are user-serviceable. If something is user-serviceable, it’s probably a good idea to do so, ideally before three years of use and abuse have been heaped upon it, as was the case with my brakes. I had previously tried to overhaul them in the spring, but the parts were long since corroded and stuck together from all the wintertime salt on the roads. Since then I had been dealing with the fact that they were no longer adjustable, and with some unholy squealing noises, and with decreasing braking power. Time to remedy that.

OK, now all of that was done, finally time to ride the ol’ Stumptown once again. I made it in to work, and realized that the seat height was not quite right, so I went to unscrew the pinch bolt to adjust it, when… PING!

The threads in the seat collar snapped and came out with the bolt. Huh.

Justin helped me jerry-rig up a different bolt with a nut to get home.

Now I have a new/old bike with new cables, brakes, chain and chainring, and with everything else cleaned, tuned and generally spiffied up. Holy cow, what a difference in the ride! I am particularly amazed at the difference in the handlebars. Apparently Easton has been monkeying (no pun intended) with ways to manipulate the carbon layers in their handlebars to make them more compliant in the downward direction to absorb more vibration, but to remain stiff in the upward direction, such as when pulling hard in a sprint. Our very own Saxonburg Blvd. got a nasty coating of rough “chips” in the asphalt a couple years ago that rattles our teeth, but suddenly, with the new bars, the rattling is turned way down. And wow, it sure is nice to have brakes that work reliably again. I promise to give those ball bearings some love before 2012!

As I immerse myself in this time honored Dirt Rag tradition of Brain Farting, I find myself flashing back to a warmer time. A time where I was slightly newer to Pittsburgh and beginning an adventure along a new trail.

Due to a roller coaster work relationship with a cultural non-for-profit north of here, most of my waking moments since mid-September have been spent staring at pixels and Bezier lines. I cherish the moments where I can escape the LCD glow and put some polarized lenses to good use. During those early days in a new city, I was always excited to get away from white keys and USB ports in exchange for some singletrack and burning lungs. Leaving the principles of design behind, the fresh air and new trails were a memorable spirit boost.

Getting lost on great singletrack was even possible when I knew the trails, and a two hour adventure in a largely unknown park, was just what I needed to remind myself of what a great place I was in. There’s something very therapeutic about riding. It’s like a focused meditation where it’s easy to forget everything else and simply react to the variety of stimuli. Away from the computer I began to realize that the machine is fast becoming more of a tool to me and less and less of a toy. As a child of Nintendo and Saga, and all their grandchildren, I can’t remember the last time I looked forward to sitting in front of a computer as recreation. While calming my burning lungs and appreciating the serenity of the woods, I became very thankful that the crazy paths I’ve chosen over several years have brought me to a park in Southwestern Pennsylvania where I sipped from my water bottle and watched a family of horned rats (I think they might have been deer).

I’m glad that what is increasingly becoming a passion in my life, is now the outlet for my professional skills. That passion for the subject of my work has also renewed an interest in design. It’s a circle I think too few experience.

At the heart of all this rambling the point might be simple: I encourage everyone to explore, get lost, make mistakes and poor decisions—at least once in awhile, because those paths might take you someplace you have never been. If you’re lucky, or fortune smiles on you, you may just like where you end up. Hopefully, what may seem like a wrong turn in fact leads to where you want to be. I think the stroke that separates simple and boring is the same width as the one which separates a wrong turn and adventure.

The Santa Cruz Heckler frame, previously seen in a different configuration here and here, is being reborn as the test bed for some new products:

Shimano SLX group—replaces LX and Hone, aimed at the trail bike/all-mountain market. Our set up will be decidedly big-hitish, with a bashguard double crank, and oversize front rotor.

Rock Shox Monarch rear shock—The newest version of Rock Shox’s platform damper. Perfect for a single pivot bike like the Heckler.

Halo Freedom Disc Rims—The SLX group doesn’t include wheels, so Halo’s US distributor, Bicycle Technology International, sent a set of Halo Freedom Disc rims our way. I built these up with Wheelsmith double butted spokes. 28mm wide, very stiff, not too heavy either at 570 grams.

A few pictures of the build process:

Still waiting on rotors and a chain. Maybe Santa will come through.

Happy Holidays and all that jazz, go give your mum a kiss.

I know some of your are expecting some brain gas here but I have some exciting subscription oriented news to share.  Allow me to introduce you to our new subscription system.

In order to better serve our subscribers, we recently upgraded our database to a new system.  The beauty of this new system is that you all can manage your subscription online; change your address, renew, and see how many issues you have left–all real time.

I’ll walk you through it.  Start by pointing your web browser here.  You should see this page.

In order to log in, you’ll need two items; your subscriber number and zip code.  Starting with issue #140 in February, our mailing labels will include this information.  See below.

As of now, none of you have that information so I’ll have to ask that you look it up by clicking “Look up your Subscriber Number.”  Enter the email we have on file for you, and your subscriber number will be sent to said email address.  Note to gift givers; you must use your gift recipient’s subscriber number and their zip code to log into their account.  Simply email me your recipient’s name and address, as well as your name and address and I’ll look up the corresponding subscriber number.  If we don’t have your email on file, email me your full name and address and I’ll confirm and send you your subscriber number.

After you have your subscriber number, enter it and the zip code we would have on file for you in order to log in.  That means that in order to update your address, you’ll have to use your old zip code until you have updated your account.

Once logged in you’ll be able to see your address, and “remaining paid issues.”  To the left of that information you’ll also find all of the forms you will need in order to change your address, renew, and report missing issues.

If you have issues beyond the scope of this system, or are unable to retrieve your subscriber number, shoot me an email.  When emailing, please include your subscriber number, if you know it, as well as your full name and address.

Please keep in mind that this is a new system and there are bound to be issues that we have not yet discovered.  Check out the new system and be sure to let me know if you suspect there may be an error with your subscription.  We want to make sure everything is in order.

Thanks for your patience and cooperation.

Cheers,

Justin Steiner
Dirt Rag Subscription Guy

One thing about time is that it sure moves fast. When I sat down to write this article, I couldn’t believe that I’ve been riding the Yeti ASR for about a month now. I meant to give a first impression of it weeks ago, but somehow time passed my by. My first ride aboard the ASR was done wearing shorts and a short sleeve jersey. Taking the quick photographs in the backyard today my hands were freezing (hence the bad lighting, my fault) and as you can see, there’s snow on the ground.

The Yeti ASR itself though has unique lines that were designed, sculpted, and manufactured in Golden, CO and it fits right in with the cult following that Yeti seems to have created for their bicycles. That was one of the main reasons I wanted to test the ASR, to see what all the fuss has been about with this somewhat mysterious brand. Plus the signature turquoise paint has always caught my attention. (Hope that doesn’t sound shallow.)

The weight of the bike surprised me at 24.91 pounds out of the box and without pedals. This is a great weight for a 3.89” rear travel full suspension rig with mostly XT parts. A small metal chainstay protector lightly adhered to the right chainstay near the chainrings is a nice touch, and a supplied neoprene protector covers the rest. The top tube is definitely worth checking out in further detail, so zoom in or find a local Yeti dealer and inspect it.

Aboard the machine the handling characteristics were only a tire swap away from being right to my liking. Combine the aggressive tread pattern of the Continental Rubber Queen, slick trails covered with leaves and storm debris and add the Yeti ASR with forward momentum and a good day in the saddle has been the reward.

That’s all I have to give, for now. The Yeti ASR will be fully reviewed in Dirt Rag #140, after it’s been put through the annual Punk Bike Enduro this December. MwaHaHa. (Make it sound menacing in your head.)