Fixed Mob vs The Angels

What do you get when 24 fixcreants mob an Angels game? That's right, pandemonium.

This past Saturday a few of the fixed gear faithful the Padres vs Angels game at The Big A. After fueling up on coffee at Kaffa in Orange, we spun over to the stadium to cheer on the home team. The ride over was largely uneventful due to Kaffa's proximity and use of the Santa Ana River bike path for about half of the required distance.



We all arrived safely and locked up under the watchful eye of the stadium's electric eye and the diligent gate attendant. The gatekeepers there are always so cool there about keeping a watchful eye on bikes. Once inside we made our way up to the View level and settled in.



The previous night's festivities at the Big A saw the Halos breaking out of an offensive slump and beating the Padres soundly. This night was no different, especially with Torii Hunter. In four appearances at the plate, he hit three home runs. The Angels tallied up 9 runs to 1 from the Padres, much to the delight of the Home fans and dismay of the Visiting fans. Needless to say, the level of rowdiness in the spirit of attending a MLB game was high within our bunch and everyone had a most enjoyable time.



We'll be doing this again.

Found by Bike

Carrie and I took a little jaunt down by the beach this past Sunday. She's still getting used to her new fixed gear conversion, but is handling it very nicely. This was evident in our maneuvering through the Huntington Beach mess from the Newport line through Bolsa Chica. Neither of us got hit by another bike path user, nor did we hit any of the errant swervin' mervins encountered. Sunset Beach was the usual mellowness, save one aggro SUV operator that just had to get by us, only to get behind another vehicle that was traveling more slowly then we were. Some people's kids...

From Surfside to Seal Beach we had to ride the shoulder of the PCH, which was the first time Carrie had been out on that bike in a high speed traffic area. Her pace quickened and we made quick work of it. After passing Seal Beach Blvd, I got to show her a trick on how to quickly and easily get across a busy six lane state highway. The light at Seal Beach Blvd had just turned green, so instead of waiting for the left turn lane there I led us down PCH until the traffic behind us ran out, allowing us to zip a left turn into a quiet resedential to access downtown. It was almost spooky, going from that busy highway to a super quiet narrow resedential street. Two different worlds.

Our way was made down to the pier and then across town to see if a group ride that was supposed to be turning around in Seal Beach had arrived yet. By the time we arrived at their intended turn-around point it was discovered through a couple of text messages that they were already long gone. We were both hungry, so seeking out some good food that wasn't going to break the bank became a priority.

After tooling back to Main Street and taking an initial look-see, we turned around just before PCH. The first place on the right-hand side of the road was this little place with a bunch of whole chickens cooking on an open grill. I asked Carrie if chicken was ok and she agreed, landing us both at Charo Chicken. A couple of burritos were ordered up and were ready in about three minutes. That was when we discovered that we had hit the food jackpot because those chicken burritos were fantastic. Since Charo is a small chain out here in SoCal, now we know where to go if we have a chicken burrito craving.

The ride back and through Huntington Beach seemed to be a lot less crowded. It was either that, or the goofiest users of the bike path had already departed. Once we got back onto the Santa Ana River bike path, Carrie opened it up a bit and we hauled back to where my truck was parked up-river.

We had succeeded in enjoying a nice afternoon together, going for a good bike ride, dodging the dangerous traffic on the beach bike path, beating the inland heat and also finding great chicken burritos! It's doubtful that we would have hit Charo Chicken if we had been in a motor vehicle. Having an unfettered view of those chickens on the grill and catching a big whiff of them cooking while making our u-turn is what sold us on stopping there. We always find the best surprises by bike.

Angels Baseball x 2

Last week was a good week for me and riding to Angels Baseball games.

Rebecca, my friend Mark and I got a chance to spin over to The Big A on Saturday May 9th to see Joe Saunders and Zack Greinke go head to head in a classic pitcher's duel. Initial consideration was to get some View level seats, but the prospect of two of the American League's best hurlers going at it made the decision to splurge for some Field level seats and easy one.

Joe Saunders


Zack Greinke


The duel was as advertised. The only run of the game was gained by a fine piece of hitting, followed up by base running to match performed by Gary Matthews Jr.

Gary Matthews Jr about to smack a double


Gary Matthews Jr changing directions to tag up on Chone Figgins' sacfrice fly ball to right field


Joe Saunders pitched the game of his career, going all nine innings to get his first MLB complete game shutout.

Joe Saunders post game interview



The following Thursday's duel with the Red Sox was of a different flavor. A see-saw afternoon weekday battle was enjoyed by 35,000 at The Big A. My work counterpart/bud Marvin and I managed to fanagle a couple of company seats to this match-up.

I had to wake up early after working all night, zip over to work, pick up the ticket, zip over to the ballpark, lock up the bike and find my seat. It wasn't too difficult, leaving my place at 1205 and being seated in the ballpark by 1225 easily outpaced what could have been done by motor vehicle. Marvin was already settled in with a beer and after that neither of us left our seats for twelve innings of being on the edge of them.

The game was twelve innings of excitement, punctuated by several fantastic defensive plays by both teams and the exclamation point being what turned out to be a game-saving catch by Torii Hunter in the top of the 10th inning.

Torii Hunter


Yeah, it was a great week to ride to Angels games.

Cycling World Loss

I just found out tonight that my friend Anthony Sloan passed away in his sleep a couple of nights ago. The preliminary indication is that it was due to an enlarged heart. If there was one trait I knew about Anthony, is that he was at least figuratively a man with a big heart. He wasn't old or unfit, so it's shocking to say the least.

Anthony and I first met in Durango, CO where were both visiting to ride some of the famed singletracks in the area back in 2001. We "knew" each other from Usenet's infamous alt.mountain-bike for a couple of years prior and had both decided the other was an interesting enough character to meet up and ride some trails with someday. The trail we chose to ride the day we met was the southern terminus of the Colorado Trail. We had a great day and a ton of fun, especially while hauling ass and laughing all of the way down the trail. After that meeting it was obvious to both of us that we had "it" figured out and would ride together again.

Anthony eventually moved from Austin, TX to the Colorado Front Range, so our paths crossed a little more often. Seb Orrell Jones and I took Anthony for a singlespeed drag up to the top of Searle Pass from Frisco, CO shortly after his move, utilizing paved bike path and singletracks to accomplish this. He was still working on his CO lungs, but wasn't far away from getting them considering it was his first whole high country season there. One of the last times I got to ride with Anthony was on the infamous Fruita Fat Tire Festival Death March in 2004. After that ride was all said and done, there was a bit of grumbling from some of the other participants. During the grumbling of others and unbeknownst to them, Anthony shot be a big grin and gave me a thumbs up to accompany it. I never told anyone about that (and doubt he did either) until writing it now because it was something that just had to be shared between ourselves. That's the kind of man Anthony was.

The last time I got to visit with Anthony was at the Fruita Fat Tire Festival in 2008. He was busy running the Yeti demo fleet because that's what he did. We had spoken about riding together again after the festival, but it never materialized. I knew I was missing out by not riding with him, but had thought at the time we would have many more chances in the future. Alas, it is not to be so.

Ride In Peace, Anthony.

Hermosa Creek Trail near Durango, CO 04/26/03


Colorado Trail near Searle Pass, CO 09/24/03

Success (originally drafted 04/07/09)

How successful was this past weekend? Let me count the ways!

Friday afternoon, a wake up and them jump onto the bike to ride down to San Diego. It was a beautiful afternoon, perfect for a solo jaunt down the coast. Arrival at ChIpPy's place was nice in that he and his lovely wife Dale (Yeah, Chip & Dale!) were the hosts with the most. They had a BBQ chicken dinner right off the grill waiting and a cold beer to boot. Their offer of couch space for this wandering bike freak and hospitality was most kind.

After a cup of coffee Saturday morning, I said my good-bye's to ChIpPy and Dale and then pedaled down-valley. Before dropping off of the mesa they live on, an eatery seemed to beckon and produced an inexpensive Machaca breakfast plate that was the goods. Down-valley and close to the convention center that was housing the San Diego Custom Bicycle Show, a stop for more coffee was in order.

Once in the vicinity of the convention center there were signs directing cyclists to the Bicycle Valet parking, which was being provided by the kind folks from the San Diego County Bicycle Coalition. After parking, I ran into the first of many LA area cyclists I know, this particular character being the nefarious Rasta Raj. The day just kept getting better by the minute. I got to talk with a few people who I have wanted to meet and ask questions for quite some time, saw many familiar faces, make some new friends and even have a free beer that was courtesy of Velo Culture Bike Shop. I ran into a friend from the MTB world that I had not ridden with in a couple of years at Sendero Cycles and after catching up a bit he helped direct me to the Velo Cult booth for a beer. That's where I ran into Mark from Long Beach who I had coordinated
a ride back up to Anaheim with in lieu of taking the Amtrak Surfliner. Mark had been there a while and had perused the convention center already, so we looked around a while more, ran into a few more friends, then departed.

Since Mark had been so cool in offering me a ride back up, I asked him if he wanted to stop at Stone to let me buy him a beer and lunch. While there, the infamous Mountain Bike Bill and one of his sons joined us for a quick visit while we were in their neighborhood. If you've not been to Stone and are contemplating going, stop contemplating and GO!

After getting dropped off, the UNC/Villanova game was on and the Tar Heels were victorious, allowing them to advance to the NCAA Basketball Final where they ultimately beat Michigan State. Having lived in NC over nine years collectively, it's hard to not be an ACC Basketball fan.

Sunday, the icing on the cake that was the weekend. Being greeted with a tailwind for the ride over to the Anaheim Train Station was a good sign to get things started. Once on the train, I got to ride up with Dave and Fred who were already on board. Union Station LA, we picked up a couple more riders and moseyed over to Chinatown Station for the Mike Vincent Benefit/Ride. As the crowd grew larger, the meeting of friends old and new grew right along with it. Eventually we all threw our legs over our trusty steeds and pedaled off into the streets of Los Angeles to show solidarity for one of our fallen comrades.

The ride was purely social, as intended. The multitude of ongoing conversations throughout the pack during the ride was phenomenal, with the conversations changing gears, something most of our bicycles were incapable of. A few rally-ups happened, along with a stop to eat at a Whole Foods and/or the farmer's market at The Grove. After the halfway rest and food, other planned stops were eschewed in favor of beelining back to Chinatown Station for the raffle.

The raffle raised a sizable amount of dough for Mike V and it seemed like nobody walked away empty-handed. Some walked away with a ton of swag and others won full BMX bikes. My fortune entailed winning a cap, lip balm (which came in handy after standing there and thinking I needed some), t-shirt, BMX DVDs, and a light set. I'd never won anything in a raffle before, so it was a pleasant surprise.

During the raffle, it was discovered that Kenny and Matt were riding back from Chinatown. Since we had not ridden together in quite some time, it was a no-brainer to just ride with them. After saying good-byes, we headed into the East LA evening. Traffic wasn't too awful and once the light of day left us, the lights won in the raffle came in handy because I hadn't brought any. Kenny and Matt had originally intended to ride to Bolsa Chica for a party, but changed their minds about Downey. After dropping Kenny off in Norwalk, Matt and I would our way over to Anaheim.

The final success of the weekend was awaiting me at my place. After starting up the stairs, I look down at the obnoxious doorslammer's apartment and it was almost empty. The hell that was the worst "neighbor" I'd ever had the displeasure to live adjacent to had become a thing of the past. Yeah, success.

A Mission

A few months ago, Carrie suggested we take a bike ride over to the San Bernardino Asistencia to check it out. She's quite the California Missions buff and has been to quite a few of them. The visitor hours there are not conducive to our schedules, which explains why it took a few months to make it happen. In the interim we did get a chance to pre-ride most of the route, so it was all pretty cut and dry when the day arrived.

There's something about the Inland Empire in Spring that I really like. It seems to have stemmed from Spring Breaks being spent with my maternal grandparents, camping in various places. The smells, blue skies, green hillsides and mild temperatures bring all of that out.

Our starting point was Fairmount Park, which has a paved bike path that connects with the Santa Ana River bike path. A Santa Ana condition was present and the first few miles were spent bucking a somewhat strong headwind. Since the winds were revealing very clear skies and knowing we could enjoy them as a tailwind on the way back made it easier. Being able to see the Cajon Pass most of the way up the river bike path also helped, since it was the source of the wind and the further East we got from it, the easier the going became.

The exit of the bike path brought us onto Waterman Ave and a bit of a break at a convenience store for something to drink. Once on the street again, we had our one kook driver encounter of the day in the form of some tie-guy municipal employee who expressed that we should have license plates on our bicycles to ride on the street. He must have been the local Traffic Engineer. A quick rip under The 10 and over some railroad tracks brought us onto Barton Road, which was a straight shot to the Astencia.

Of course it had to have at least one hill, or it wouldn't have been a real adventure, right? At least the view improved with altitude. Once up on the hill, it was a little rolly for the first few miles and then dropped down again before the Mission. Up a short rise after New Jersey Avenue and we were there.

It's almost surreal to think that in the midst of the modern suburban sprawl there could be something so old and cool. It's almost like the place is hidden in plain view. Once inside the walls, the hustle and bustle seems to disappear, adding more charm. It also helped that we were the only visitors present the whole time we were there. The courtyard wasn't too opulent, but had its points of interest just the same. The cattle ranchos built to support the missions didn't seem to rate as high as the missions themselves. The chapel and adjoining rooms were sparsely furnished, but the period items there had a fantastic mix of Spanish and Native influences. What appeared to have been a bunkhouse was converted into an interpretive center, which helped explain the site's history from inception to present.

Rested up from the first half of the ride, but hungry, our next mission was to find food! Neither of us had been scanning the strip malls on the way in, but we readily found a sandwich shop and stopped for a bite. Mostly downhill with a tailwind after eating is always a good thing. Allowing for a relaxing pace and a few stops to take a few photos also enabled a celebrity encounter. Arrival back at our starting point after a thirty mile jaunt was welcomed equally by both of us.

It was worth the wait.

Recovery

Good news, Tone recovered my bike on Wednesday afternoon in Anacrime. It was being piloted by some dirt merchant who had a bunch of garbage strapped to it. The paint is a little worse for wear and the saddle took a few hits, being scuffed through the leather on one side, but the wheels are straight and the Ritchey Race tires are barely worn. The aforementioned dirt merchant told Tone he got it for $40 from some dude. Yeah, right. Thanks to all who were looking out for it and especially to Tone for putting the grab on it.