Chewing the Fat

By Various Readers

Big Head Syndrome
For about three years I have subscribed to your magazine. Not so long, I suppose: I know you have many readers who pride themselves as devotees since the days when the use of the word "Rag" was truly a good way to describe the publication. But I'm in the Midwest, where the ground is unrelentingly flat, where we get winter, and then we get July. So excuse me for being slow in picking up this sport, and in finding your magazine.

Now, perhaps it's because I live where I do, or perhaps it's because I've gotten solidly into my thirties now, but I have to admit that I've gone through phases when I greeted a new issue from you with some indifference. I've got other things I should read, a book, say, or more hard-news stuff. When it's the dead of winter, or when I'm terribly busy at work, it seems frivolous to be reading about mountain biking. At times I've questioned whether I would care about renewing when subscription time came. I thought about that a little bit yesterday when I saw your February issue in my mail slot. It seemed like time for me to sit and reacquaint myself with you guys. And after awhile I came across two letters sent in by readers eulogizing friends and fellow lovers of the sport who had died prematurely. I was moved by the stories told there. And I also was reminded of other feelings I've had about Dirt Rag. I was reminded that you are a sports publication unlike any other I know. Flipping through the pages I remembered that at the heart of it, it's really not about mountain biking; it's about the experiences, the people, the sensations that the sport brings us. The bike that now hibernates in my basement is a medium that, come spring, will again introduce me to sights I doubtless would never otherwise see, to pain, fear, exhaustion, desperation; yet also to exhilaration, to wonder, to peace. It is a sport that seems always to require me to open my wallet for more and more expensive gear, to drive or even fly hours and inevitably get lost on the way to merely find a place to ride, it is a sport which I'm really no darn good at, and at this point know I never will be. Nevertheless I love it.

That is what is in Dirt Rag isn't it? There are many worthy ways to celebrate the lives we're given. Among them I dearly count mountain biking, and I'm glad you and your readers do as well.

Doug Harper
Chicago, Illinois

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In every issue, Dirt Rag professes itself to be a FORUM. A forum is a place for the open exchange of ideas, and by and large, that's what we get each issue. Folks who write in, shouting at the Rag for publishing a letter that they disagree with, are missing the point. Part of living in a world full of people different from you is the fact that sooner or later, you might accidentally listen to one of them talk.

I don't smoke pot (the stuff scares me), but a lot of the time, letters written by those who do are good for a laugh. I don't have kids (they scare me too), but parents who don't like selected words should hide their eyes. Brats and weed give me the creeps, but I have never been afraid of a thought.

Given the breath and the opportunity, idiots will demonstrate their buffoonery to the world, and sometimes its funny to let them. Point is, Dirt Rag publishing a letter or column is like someone in a room full of people standing up with something in their hand and saying "Hey, look at THIS!" It doesn't mean they support drug use or devil worship or cat juggling or whatever, they're just showing it to you. They're not trying to send a "message". They're just putting it on display.
...so shut up.

Phil Gullett
Chicago

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What's up? I'm worried and very troubled that your Feb. issue has not yet arrived. It's over a week late and I'm going through withdrawal. Over 13 weeks without a Dirt Rag, I can't take much more. You're most likely late because of all the good winter riding weather this year, which is understandable. Even if you're late, you're still the best, and worth waiting for.

Ride on,
Dave Radziewicz

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Thanks for everything. Without your inspiration I could have never gone "retro." You have made a difference in the way I ride, drink beer and feel toward my fellow men and women whatever their size and shape or color. Keep up the good work and if ever you get to NH please give me a call and I'll put together some fun.

Sincerely,
Mark Kilmister
Dewbarton, NH

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What a great magazine!! How fortunate I was to stumble across it in a megacorporate record store here in Toronto. Finally, real world literature for real world mountain bike enthusiasts. Keep up the mad styles!!

Sebastian Grinham
Toronto, Ontario

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I like the new "Dirt Rag" logo. Is that going to be the one from now on, or are you going to change it every month? Either way, I like it. Please pick my entry slip for the WTB tires.

Thank you.
Jason Lee

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Hey ! You spelled "error" wrong!
A concerned reader,
Eric Torres
NYC
P.S. Great article on builder warranties and rider responsibiliy.

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And in response...
I am writing this letter to express concern over a mostly unrecognized builder of the best bikes on the market. I am speaking, of course, about Living-X (also known as OttoRizzo) out of South Dakota. I purchased a frame and components from Mark (a builder) who answered the phone when I called with some questions. He had answers, and more so than any other manufactorer that I called. I used to be a machanic at Bike Nashbar, but that was before the days of Mountain Biking, and now that I am 3 seasons into racing and riding, I decided that it was time to invest in a serious ride. It infuriated me when I read your last issue, with the warrantee questions, and did not see them asked or listed. They have a lifetime frame upgrade for half price, simply because you want a new frame, and they have a greatwarantee department. My bike was stolen and they offered to work out a deal with me on a replacement if my insurance didn't cover it. (As it turns out I found the kid who stole my bike and got it back, he rode past me on it one day in Harvard Square, Boston, and I jumped him...but that is another story.) Living-X was great through the whole thing, and I am sure that (may it never happen) that if my frame has a mishap, that the guys at Living-X will once again find themselves in my awe for such great service. They should also be recignized for their ingenious frame designs. Have you ever had branches and twigs snag your cables??? Check out the Living-X top tube, and you will learn from the best on how to avoid that problem.

That is all from Boston, happy riding and remember to thank the guys who make the bikes, wherever they may be this time of year.

MD 4S

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I believe that posers suck. Mountain bike posers are as bad as new school punk posers. Chi chi and garbage techno do wads up the ass, and they still can't clear stumps or bunny hop to save their integrity. Technology isn't cool but it does make some things a whole lot easier. Though my bike is significantly better (supposedly) than the bmx my mom and dad bought for me when I was twelve, I don't believe I enjoy riding any more or less than I did on the "lesser" bike. I ride to ride, not to endorse products or jingle and clatter down the cluttered and compressed trails and paths. If a company wants me to wear a t-shirt or sticker, then they better break me off with some cheap goods! I like biking and being out in the woods. I don't need a commercial or sports network extravaganza, and those that do can take a hike. Just some thoughts.

Skoolee
Florida Backcountry

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Wilderness parks should be opened to mountain bikers. Mountain bikes do not do that much damage to the trails. Mountain bikers are one of the leading political forces involved in opening and keeping open hiking/biking trails. Mountain biking is a quiet, non-polluting way for humans to get back to nature.

Although hikers will say otherwise, mountain bikes have a small impact on the erosion of trails, horses are much worse. Groups like NORBA and IMBA are working hard with volunteers to keep trails neat and usable for both bikers and hikers. IMBA has dedicated a lot of resources to keeping trails open for everyone.

Some hikers have been quoted as saying "the mountain bikers are the ones that kept the trails open." Finally, credit where it is due.

Some large wilderness areas have areas set aside for motorbikes. That is ridiculous. They pollute, they are loud and they are as far from nature as you can get while still touching the dirt! Mountain bikes are low impact, environmentally safe, and respectful of both hikers and nature. Let the dirt people ride.

Dan Shugert
kbteachme@aol.com

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Inspiration
Here's a cool poem my excellent friend Lecia Zulak wrote during a fit of winter boredom.

Golly Gee,
If only,
It would be,
To take a ride on the,
Two-wheeled, pedal pushed trolley.
(sent in by Ted Stodgell, Penn State)

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Just read your mag for the first time and was hooked. I was so inspired, I wrote a poem about a recent mountain biking foray.

Ride up and brake.
Ride up and brake.
Ride up and brake.
Ride up and...
my hands are not connected.
My bike wants to fly but my hands, they break.
Next time...

Thanks and I'm looking' forward to the next issue...

Kimberly Marcus
Tarrytown, NY

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Campfire Stories
The date: October 27, 1996. The time: 3:30 pm. The scene: My favorite trail, half woody, half open with short steep climbs. The story: I got off work early. It doesn't get that cold here on the North Carolina border until January or February, but it was the last 75 to 80 degree day we would probably have until next year. I decided to enjoy it to the fullest. I traveled my favorite route on the right side of the woods that stayed pretty clean due to 4-wheelers and motorcycles. The other half of the wooded trail I had not been on since the hurricane the first week of September. That being the case, and me trying to make the most out of this day, of course I went in.

It was just as I had thought it would be, trees fallen, brush in the way, etc. After riding the loop and being forced to go through a lot of brush, I made my way back to the open area where the trails were. Since the leaves do fall off the trees at this time of year I wasn't surprised to notice something on my left shoulder. I looked at it and thought, "What a huge leaf." I stopped my bike (not yet figuring out what it was) and attempted to brush it off my shoulder. Then I noticed that it had fur. After one swipe itsort of hung there with one claw still holding on to my jersey. By this time I was positive that it was a bat. I knocked it off my shoulder with a second swipe and it fell to the ground. The little boy in me made me pick up a stick and poke it. The bat just squeaked and flew back into the woods. My favorite animal/riding story.

Kevin Fore
wos@gamewood.net

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Where I Ride
I am interested in more beginner trials articles. Since it is winter up in Ontario most of my riding is done on the ice formations that form alongside Lake Ontario (totally trials!). You just have to be careful not to fall into the lake (death in seconds). You also have to be careful not to fall down snow covered crevasses. They are only about 8 feet deep but you really can get jammed in them. I use special Noiaka carbide studded tires to get some grip on the ice. I don't know anyone who does this type of riding, I have avoided telling people because they make weird circle motions with their hand directed at their heads. Keep those trials articles coming.

Madcycle

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Is mountain biking awesome or what? Today I was riding alone in the mountains near my town. It was a cold, misty, gray day. I topped out over two passes and on each pass it was snowing lightly, and very quiet. Mine were the only tracks on this trail. Breathing hard, each breath turned to smoke. Cautiously picking my way down the snow covered singletrack that snakes along the narrow spine of a ridge, the view of the lake 1500' below opens into a spectacular site. Outstanding! There is a lump in my throat. An hour later I am back at the truck shivering as dusk sets in. This is where I ride, the lost land of mountain biking, Shasta County, far northern California. Surfing sucks!

Mike Simpson
Shasta County, CA

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Greetings from the land of glacial cold beer and cool hockey fights. For anyone who doesn't have a clue where that is or simply could care less, it's on the west coast of Canada where you will find fresh mountain air and lush forests that are euphoria for riding. I have only recently started reading Dirt Rag and I've found that its articles emit a true radiance of experiences from real mountain bikers. I really like the homegrown atmosphere it portrays. All the stories are from riding experiences of the authors and other guest writers that ride. I'm glad that I didn't find 20 different bike reviews that criticize the anatomy of every part and tell how the company could build it better. I mean, I could seriously give a rat's ass about all that tricked-out wizardry crap. Leave that trash for all the rich kids.

Here's a true personal experience that ends with a good moral. Usually I ride in good weather; but when I have the urge to ride, I'll spin through any forecast except one. To make a long story quite short, I'll combine the theme, body, and plot in two run-on sentences.

Okay, picture this. I'm reaching the top of a somewhat long and grueling technical uphill. I start to feel a drop of rain, glance at my barometer and the needle is falling (just kidding), get off my bike and take a rest (not concerned yet), the air is becoming cool and moist, a dark and ominous storm cloud rolls in, decide to mount up faster than usual due to the 'slippery when wet' sections on the down hill (more concerned about falling and ruining a perfect ride), as I click my right foot into my spd's, the loudest crescendo of rumbling, cracking, atmospheric booming thunder rips through the air, reverberating into the ground and rattling my loose headset on my aluminum frame (quite concerned about partial deafness), (early stages of frozen panic syndrome).

I quickly click into my other pedal and start to begin the downhill, steam is evaporating from my legs and body as I am pelted with a steady downpour of cold rain droplets, gaining speed along open fire road with streaks of mud on my face and back. As I'm approaching the singletrack turn off section, another rider is coming up the fire road. As I slow down and come into view of him, he frantically waves and asks if there is a fast way down. I point to the turn moff ahead of me and he darts towards it. I follow him, we're both weaving down the switchbacks when something happened which I can only describe as the split second sound of tin foil being scrunched up at the exact same moment as a white flash takes up your whole field of view.

The next thing I know I'm opening my eyes and lifting my head from the ground seeing that frantic buddy rider had also crashed and was getting to his feet from a face down position, way off to the side of the main track. The strange part of this story is that I don't remember crashing, so metaphysically it was still a perfect ride. So the moral of this encounter with hostile weather systems is that you should avoid them when possible. If you're caught in one like I was, get the hell off the mountain as fast as you can because a rider plus bicycle equal human lightning rod.

Dan Sapronov
Kelowna, British Columbia

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The future of mountain biking came to me in a vision. It happened one night in front of the tube. There I was, fully recumbent, smarting from the two stitches received after my ride the day before. Guys with crooked glasses and pocket protectors were talking about the planet Venus. Computer graphics of the planet surface revealed steep, neon orange, twisted mountains. I glanced at the stack of videos next to the 13" screen. There was Professor Hans Rey doing the "level vibes." There was "Third Stone from the Sun" a rock climbing video lent by a friend. Too stiff to pop one in, I watched the planet Venus with my eyes while my mind wandered into the memory of the well worn videos. I had been into rock climbing 25 years ago. As a kid growing up in the suburbs of Washington D.C., I thrived traveling with a tribe at one with nature, pushing the limits of what was possible. At that time you were on the cutting edge if you could lead 5.10 in a clean, controlled style. Living on the prairie and respecting my own mortality, now, I watch videos of other people climbing. The cutting edge is now 5.14, the style is powerful and bold. The climber of today trains in ways we had never considered 25 years ago.

Suddenly, there it was, the future of mountain biking! The moves that Hans is teaching us and that trials riders are continuing to push to their limits, is a kind of training for the future of mountain biking. The show on Venus flashed me a couple of images from real mountains here on earth, maybe the Tetons. My eyes started scanning for gnarly, ripping, single track. Then it hit me. There is the future of mountain biking: Riders with skills refined in the world of trials, going into the mountains to pioneer trails we can barely imagine today. Just like in climbing, the first guy to complete the project will name his creation. Someone else will then do the route in a better style, one less dab, one less hour, or whatever. Then, racing and competition will be just a small part of mountain biking, an arena to refine skills needed to succeed and stay alive in the mountains. Who knows, maybe the hot video of 2050 will feature some cyber-Hans cleaning a volcano on Venus!

Jim Disney, Buffalo, MN.