If you do intervals
and then come home
and drink 3 beers....
...is it still trainingor just breaking even??
Friday, April 15, 2011
Monday, April 11, 2011
The Season Opener
The Napa Valley Dirt Classic is a race that's been on my radar for a while now and this year I would finally make it. Short-ish course but chocked full of excitement with alot of roller coaster style trail and tight-ish singletrack in the woods that kind of reminded me of something you would ride in Santa Cruz. Fun trail really. I'd like to get back there and check it out again sometime. Short races create some certainties with the most important (and painful) being a hard fast start. This would hold exceptionally true with this event as the course had about 1 minute of uphill paved road that leads into singletrack to get your day of suffering off and running. Ride like your life depends on it for the first minute and you'll be in the front-ish part of the pack with good riders. Lag, even for a second, at the start and you'll be sitting in a line of lycra clad dudes that will show you that even the most trivial of obstacles in the trail are cause for slowing, stopping, dismounting or some other strange lack of bike handling that makes you wonder if you signed up for the right class. Recap: Got into the singletrack at the start in about 10th. Course opened up a bit after a while and I could see a group of 4 about a minute out. Closed the gap but paid a hefty price in doing so. Started getting into these BIG roller coaster rollers on a rough-ish fire road repeating itself for a mile or so kinda like this: Short steep fast descent/"G-out" at the bottom/leg breaking lung busting climb up the other side/ repeat. After about 6 or 7 of these our group was wittled down to just me and some dude wearing one knee high pink sock on his left leg. Hmm? Interesting. After the rollers it was time to do some tight and twisty singletrack radness. I kept catching guys, which is always good, with Pink Sock Dude almost always in tow. I was guestimating that most of the riders I was catching were in the class that started in the group 2 minutes ahead of us which included pro & singlespeed. We were past the halfway point of the race I still had power in my legs and water in my bottles. Ffwd to the longish descent consisting of an overgrown fireroad/doubletrack. Fast. Scary fast! Although I had the smarts to scrub some speed and keep it together in the corners you just KNOW I couldn't resist that little kicker on the left side of the trail. It was perfect. Just a little hump on the outside of a fast sweeping right hander. It's one of those things where you don't really get too high off the ground but nonetheless you seem to float downhill FOREVER. Then... then you touch down. As my bike made contact with the earth I heard that oh so familiar KLANG of atomic #13 (my aluminum rim) making solid contact with a mass of hard consolidated matter (a rock) and for the next few seconds all I can do is keep riding and listen. Although I couldn't hear the oh so precious mix of 78% nitrogen 21% oxygen and 1% other substances escaping from my front tire it was clear that things were getting desperate on the very next corner when my tire nearly rolled off the rim sending me off the main line of the trail. Coincenetally this had me bouncing through rocks in high grass at race pace with the left side of my handlebars tick tick ticking through the overgrowing branches. Scary... sheeit! This was enough to make me realize that even if I was lucky enough to not crash I'd still be changing a tire. When it comes to flatting in races I'd be willing to bet that I'm in the running for having the most flats EVER. Having grown up riding and racing in the Appalachians (oh so rocky/technical) area of Pennsylvania I know a thing or two about fixing flats... fast. Being a full time bike mechanic doesn't hurt either. I've got my system for changing out a tube in a race situation and I'm not afraid to say; it's damn good. I figured that somewhere between 8-10 riders got by me while I performed my nascar style tire change. Of course I flatted at the bottom of one of the hardest climbs of the day. Legs... screaming. It seemed to take FOREVER to get back into a good pace again. I tried to keep count of the guys I was re-catching but can only guestimate that I got by 5ish riders. Once we topped out on the climb we were back in familiar territory and I knew we were within' two miles of the finish. I could see two riders up ahead. I caught them, but it took almost the rest of the course to do so. The finish of this race is Paris Roubaix style wherein you do a lap on a running track. As the three of us started around the track towards the finish the pace ramped up and it was ON! Well, it was on for the other two guys. My legs had no business for a sprint finish today and all I could do was watch those guys duking it out to the finish. A quick look at the results revealed a few things. First thing was that the racing was quite close with podium spots being filled in a minute and a half. Second thing was that Pink Sock Dude's name was Brian Buttler and he won his class (19-34 Expert). The third thing was that if the podium for my class (35-44 expert) had 5 steps instead of 3 I would've juuuussst squeaked onto the platform of victors instead of sitting in the grasses with the masses. Fourth and final thing; even though the raffle prizes were in abundance I would leave empty handed... like always. I suck at raffles.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
BB Service
Imagine if you will that you are a set of bottom bracket bearings in your bicycle. Sounds like a simple job really. You'll get to go on some killer rides with your only responsibility being that of spinning in circles while supporting your good friend and neighbor... the crankset. You'll get to ride all the killer trails, probably travel to exotic locations and maybe... just maybe help your rider stand atop the podium at the local mountain bike race. Ahh, I can smell victory from here!!!
After some time at this "life" you'll probably start to realize that it's not all buff singletrack and long warm summer days. The first of the "rough days" might start with a trip to Downieville early in the season with multiple stream crossings followed by a ride atop a car at 80mph in the rain. The next ride might be an all day epic in the late summer with a group of buds where you'll be stuck behind other riders for most of the day eating more dust than you imagined ever possible. Then there's winter. Don't tell me you've never ridden in the snow. Oh... did I mention that you're "owner" might be a 200lb gorilla of a rider with a propensity for riding 5 days a week, thinks that all bikes make grinding noises from the bottom bracket and has a riding style that's described by his riding partners as ANYTHING but smooth.
Bottom bracket bearings have changed drastically over the years and will probably continue to do so as the industry strives to build a better mousetrap. The bottom bracket bearings live between the crankarms of your bike and take quite the beating during a typical day of riding regardless of rider weight, strength and/or technique. Although many variations exist, it's the "external bottom bracket" that we're going to hone in on this time around. External BB's have been widely accepted by all the "players" in the industry and regardless of the name on your crankset there's a good chance that it has external bearings which can and will fail at some point in their/your life. Fortunately for you and your bike there's a fix for the creaking, squeaking or whatever else might be going on in there and it comes in the form of aftermarket bearings. Mighty Mobile put some bearings on several riders bikes to see how they stood the test of time and after a year of positive results we started placing orders for the bearing kits in the masses. I won't bore you with too much technical mumbo jumbo and simplify things by saying that the aftermarket bearings come with a larger diameter bearings and a secondary seal (most of the time) that will keep your steed running smooth for longer than the stock bearings. But wait - just like buying something off of late night TV - THERE'S MORE!!! Things get even better (most of the time) when it comes to paying the bill. When you replace the bearings and reuse the existing bearing cups you'll be saving yourself some hard earned $$!!
First, out with the old.
Close up shot of the bearing without the crankset. Dirty huh.
Close up shot of the bearing without the crankset. Dirty huh.
It's a nasty environment down there. Notice the grime on the spindle.
This is what your bottom bracket (half of it anyhow) looks like out of the bike. The silver part is the bearing cup and the black piece is a seal. 
Inside the frame. Yep, that's water in there.
With these tools...
... we can go in here. Muwhaahaaa. (to be said sinisterly... like Dracula)
The bearing has already been pressed out of the cup. With the inside of cups that look like this....
.... it's no wonder that your bearings probably look like this.
So, at this point you can either buy a complete bottom bracket or just replace the bearings with a new set. How'z 'bout saving yourself some hard earned $$ and just press new bearings in the existing cups. The cups typically clean up just fine. See.
Tahdah! New bearings. I can almost feel the smoothness from here. 
Let's clean up some more stuff like the spindle and the inside of the frame. Look Ma... no more grime!
Almost back together. Damn that bearing looks good doesn't it!
Wait. We're not done yet. How about another seal. Yeah... let's hear it for another seal!!!
You feeling warm and tingly yet? Me too!! Mighty Mobile carries bearing upgrades for most popular makes and models. Ceramic and ceramic hybrids also available. And just like everything we do, it's done at your house, on your terms and done right the first time. Call anytime to schedule an appointment.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Training
With the mourning of Darlas' death behind me it's off the bigger and better things. I'm sure alot of you are wondering how the fastest mountain biker in the whole state of Nevada is preparing for the 2011 racing season. Some riders are out packing in the base miles. Others are hitting the gym for strength training. I know guys/gals that swear by intervals. But me.... I like to think outside the box and I'm going to let you in on my patented training technique that has worked for me year after year and is especially handy in a snowy environment with no trails and sloppy roads. This technique seems to work well on events ranging from short xc races to 100 milers with almost NO modification. I should warn you though, embarking on any new fitness program should only be done AFTER talking to your doctor to see if you're ready for such a rigorous training program. Once you have the "OK" from your doctor get yourself well hydrated, set up your stationary trainer and click here.
See you at the races!
See you at the races!
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
The Death Of Darla pt 3
I sat on the couch and took comfort in the sound of absolute silence in my living room as I watched the bubbles rise in a bottle of Racer 5 IPA. I reflected back on how I'd spent the better part of my day I came to the realization that, although I'd been out on the road for the better part of 10 hours, I'd accomplished next to NOTHING. Meh... whadda ya gonna do. Darlas condition "is what it is" and it's time to get over it, make a new plan and move on.
Megan came home from work a couple of hours later and as I unfolded the exploits of my day during dinner we came up with "Plan D" which had us both leaving Truckee early the next morning and heading to Petaluma in another attempt to get a new car. Before we settled in for the night I sat down at the computer and posted Darla on Craigslist explaining the fact that the transmission had its issues, among other things, and would "probably get you home but not much further". I clicked on the "publish", shut down the computer and went to sleep.
You can't even begin to understand how elated I am to say that Tuesday would turn out to be the exact opposite of Monday in every way imaginable. No mechanicals. No white knuckle driving. No wind. No rain. NO WORRIES! We made it to Petaluma in the morning and spent little time looking at, driving and buying a Subaru Outback. I was back in Truckee in the early afternoon and by the time I got home I already had more than a few people interested in buying Darla that would help her move on to the next chapter of her life. The first person who came to look at Darla handed over the cash and drove off in her with his friend following close by in another car "just in case".... smart kid. And just like that... she was gone. Darla disappeared over the hill driving off into the sunset. Within 30 minutes it started to snow and would continue to do so for the next four days. Selling Darla proved to be as epic and simple as her entire life with me.
And now it's on to the next car in my life. I can't help but wonder how it'll be. What kind of epic rides, killer ski days, pick-up and deliveries for Mighty Mobile and other countless missions will it take me to. Well, if day one is any indicator as to what kind of life it'll lead.....
.... it's sure to be interesting. Here's my new car in my driveway the very next day after buying it. Whadda ya think? Looks good huh. Not a scratch on it.
Megan came home from work a couple of hours later and as I unfolded the exploits of my day during dinner we came up with "Plan D" which had us both leaving Truckee early the next morning and heading to Petaluma in another attempt to get a new car. Before we settled in for the night I sat down at the computer and posted Darla on Craigslist explaining the fact that the transmission had its issues, among other things, and would "probably get you home but not much further". I clicked on the "publish", shut down the computer and went to sleep.
You can't even begin to understand how elated I am to say that Tuesday would turn out to be the exact opposite of Monday in every way imaginable. No mechanicals. No white knuckle driving. No wind. No rain. NO WORRIES! We made it to Petaluma in the morning and spent little time looking at, driving and buying a Subaru Outback. I was back in Truckee in the early afternoon and by the time I got home I already had more than a few people interested in buying Darla that would help her move on to the next chapter of her life. The first person who came to look at Darla handed over the cash and drove off in her with his friend following close by in another car "just in case".... smart kid. And just like that... she was gone. Darla disappeared over the hill driving off into the sunset. Within 30 minutes it started to snow and would continue to do so for the next four days. Selling Darla proved to be as epic and simple as her entire life with me.
And now it's on to the next car in my life. I can't help but wonder how it'll be. What kind of epic rides, killer ski days, pick-up and deliveries for Mighty Mobile and other countless missions will it take me to. Well, if day one is any indicator as to what kind of life it'll lead.....
.... it's sure to be interesting. Here's my new car in my driveway the very next day after buying it. Whadda ya think? Looks good huh. Not a scratch on it.
Friday, February 18, 2011
The Death of Darla pt2
2-1/2 hours west of Truckee lies the town of Vacaville Ca. Vacaville can be accessed by 7 exits off of hwy80 with its most westward option being Red Top Rd. It was at this point in my drive to Petaluma I started hearing some really curious noise coming from Darlas transmission. Enough noise in fact that I immediately abandoned the left lane in an attempt at making the exit. After successfully negotiating my way across 3 lanes of traffic with no haste I pulled off the side of Red Top Rd to have a look. With the engine still running I opened the door and realized things weren't good before my foot even had a chance to touch the dirt in the pullout where we'd stopped. I hunched down and looked at Darlas underside inspecting her transmission. Things appeared normal on the exterior but the knocking, grinding and other strange noises coming from the interior of Darlas tranny were telling me that things were obviously in dire straits.
The only certainty at this point was that Darlas transmission was going to fail but many questions remained unanswered. How long would it last? What would happen once it failed? Where would I be and just what the hell would I do!?!? My first option failed immediately (crying for my mommy) so I quickly put "plan B" into motion. "Plan B" was to turn around and head back towards home realizing that my options for help improved the closer I got to Truckee. As I motored down the on-ramp to the highway the tranny begged for mercy as it cycled up through the gears.... except 4th gear. Hmm. That's strange. Shifting into 5th gear was downright frightful and made me wonder if I should even be on the road. I had a concern that if the transmission failed in such a manner that "locked up" the rear wheels at 70mph in the middle of a busy 3 lane highway there was sure to be an accident. I eased off Darlas accelerator and slowed down enough to downshift to 4th gear which made much less noise for one reason or another. I kept driving while listening intently to the noise/noises coming from the tranny. My mind was racing. As the miles went by I mentally prepared for different scenarios of the "what's, if's and how's". Before too long I was in Davis and stopped by an auto repair shop to have Darlas tranny fluid checked. After 20 minutes the mechanic came out with the news that I pretty much already knew which was the transmission was about the fail. The mechanic (Mark) was super cool and had compassion for my predicament telling me that I didn't owe him anything. I slapped a $20 on the counter, jumped back in the truck, got back on the highway and went all banzai style towards Sacramento with "Plan C".
"Plan C" had me going to Fair Oaks to look at a Honda CRV. Even though Darla didn't really sound interested in a side trip, this one seemed ok as it was only 5 short miles off the highway and was potentially taking me to a car that would be more likely to get me home. The problem with this "5 short miles" was that it was littered with red lights requiring Darla to get herself back up to speed from a dead stop countless times. Inevitably there were always people standing at intersections along this busy section of road and the looks on their faces each time I'd start to get Darla moving from a red light were concerning albeit a bit humorous. I finally reached my destination and saw the CRV in the driveway. Although it was black (not my first color choice) the car looked great from my vantage point from the side of the road. I shut off Darlas engine and just sat there for a minute collecting my thoughts and giving my ears a much needed break from the past hour and a half of very noisy driving. I hopped out of the truck and started walking towards the CRV. I got more and more excited with each step closer I got to the car. I peeked inside the window and the interior looked new. A quick lap around the car showed no signs of damage, the tires were good and the.... wait a minute... what the hell?? I just couldn't help but notice that there wasn't a "4WD" emblem on the rear hatch. Hmm. I bent over to look under the car and my heart just sank with the realization that the only thing attached to the rear wheels were the brakes. No driveshaft, no differential, no power to the rear wheels.... NO 4WD!! In an instant any thoughts I'd had of driving this car home were gone... over... terminated. I walked back towards Darla, opened the creaky drivers side door and just sat there. The gal selling the car was foreign (Armenian??) and we definitely had a bit of a language barrier while talking on the phone. I do remember asking (twice) if the car was "four wheel drive" and getting a definite "yes" as her answer. Well, thanx for nothing. I turned Darlas key and filled my ears with the all to familiar griding, clacking, whirring and other fateful noises she had been making for the past 2 hours and started making my way back towards the highway.
Against Megan's advice to NOT stop at any car dealers on my way home I found myself getting off the highway one more time and drove into an auto dealer that was the size of a small city. I drove around until I saw a giant blue and white sign that read "HONDA" and pulled in. I was instantly greeted and asked how I could be helped. I'll save you the full story of how my half hour was wasted with savvy sales guys telling me that "95,000 miles is NOTHING on a Honda", "buying certified pre-owned is the ONLY safe way to buy a used car" and last but not least being introduced to the used sales manager with the outrageous Scottish accent asking "how can I meet your needs?" In the end, I'd leave Sacramento in my grinding, whirring, knocking, clunking truck with my tail between my legs feeling like I'd been chewed up and spit out by the used car market and drive the rest of the way back to Truckee in a, fortunately, uneventful trip. After getting home and parking Darla in her spot I walked in the house, opened up a beer and sat down on the couch in utter amazement reflecting back on my day. It was 3:30 in the afternoon.
The only certainty at this point was that Darlas transmission was going to fail but many questions remained unanswered. How long would it last? What would happen once it failed? Where would I be and just what the hell would I do!?!? My first option failed immediately (crying for my mommy) so I quickly put "plan B" into motion. "Plan B" was to turn around and head back towards home realizing that my options for help improved the closer I got to Truckee. As I motored down the on-ramp to the highway the tranny begged for mercy as it cycled up through the gears.... except 4th gear. Hmm. That's strange. Shifting into 5th gear was downright frightful and made me wonder if I should even be on the road. I had a concern that if the transmission failed in such a manner that "locked up" the rear wheels at 70mph in the middle of a busy 3 lane highway there was sure to be an accident. I eased off Darlas accelerator and slowed down enough to downshift to 4th gear which made much less noise for one reason or another. I kept driving while listening intently to the noise/noises coming from the tranny. My mind was racing. As the miles went by I mentally prepared for different scenarios of the "what's, if's and how's". Before too long I was in Davis and stopped by an auto repair shop to have Darlas tranny fluid checked. After 20 minutes the mechanic came out with the news that I pretty much already knew which was the transmission was about the fail. The mechanic (Mark) was super cool and had compassion for my predicament telling me that I didn't owe him anything. I slapped a $20 on the counter, jumped back in the truck, got back on the highway and went all banzai style towards Sacramento with "Plan C".
"Plan C" had me going to Fair Oaks to look at a Honda CRV. Even though Darla didn't really sound interested in a side trip, this one seemed ok as it was only 5 short miles off the highway and was potentially taking me to a car that would be more likely to get me home. The problem with this "5 short miles" was that it was littered with red lights requiring Darla to get herself back up to speed from a dead stop countless times. Inevitably there were always people standing at intersections along this busy section of road and the looks on their faces each time I'd start to get Darla moving from a red light were concerning albeit a bit humorous. I finally reached my destination and saw the CRV in the driveway. Although it was black (not my first color choice) the car looked great from my vantage point from the side of the road. I shut off Darlas engine and just sat there for a minute collecting my thoughts and giving my ears a much needed break from the past hour and a half of very noisy driving. I hopped out of the truck and started walking towards the CRV. I got more and more excited with each step closer I got to the car. I peeked inside the window and the interior looked new. A quick lap around the car showed no signs of damage, the tires were good and the.... wait a minute... what the hell?? I just couldn't help but notice that there wasn't a "4WD" emblem on the rear hatch. Hmm. I bent over to look under the car and my heart just sank with the realization that the only thing attached to the rear wheels were the brakes. No driveshaft, no differential, no power to the rear wheels.... NO 4WD!! In an instant any thoughts I'd had of driving this car home were gone... over... terminated. I walked back towards Darla, opened the creaky drivers side door and just sat there. The gal selling the car was foreign (Armenian??) and we definitely had a bit of a language barrier while talking on the phone. I do remember asking (twice) if the car was "four wheel drive" and getting a definite "yes" as her answer. Well, thanx for nothing. I turned Darlas key and filled my ears with the all to familiar griding, clacking, whirring and other fateful noises she had been making for the past 2 hours and started making my way back towards the highway.
Against Megan's advice to NOT stop at any car dealers on my way home I found myself getting off the highway one more time and drove into an auto dealer that was the size of a small city. I drove around until I saw a giant blue and white sign that read "HONDA" and pulled in. I was instantly greeted and asked how I could be helped. I'll save you the full story of how my half hour was wasted with savvy sales guys telling me that "95,000 miles is NOTHING on a Honda", "buying certified pre-owned is the ONLY safe way to buy a used car" and last but not least being introduced to the used sales manager with the outrageous Scottish accent asking "how can I meet your needs?" In the end, I'd leave Sacramento in my grinding, whirring, knocking, clunking truck with my tail between my legs feeling like I'd been chewed up and spit out by the used car market and drive the rest of the way back to Truckee in a, fortunately, uneventful trip. After getting home and parking Darla in her spot I walked in the house, opened up a beer and sat down on the couch in utter amazement reflecting back on my day. It was 3:30 in the afternoon.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
The Death Of Darla
Part 1 of 2... or maybe 3
I used to have a Jeep. An incredibly crappy, unreliable piece of shit Jeep. I truly think that ALL Jeeps are incredibly crappy, unreliable pieces of shit and I think I have a right to say that after laying down my hard earned money for one and then laying down some more hard earned money in a feeble attempt at keeping my incredibly crappy, unreliable piece of shit jeep (from here on to be referred to as: ICUPSJ) on the road. Ever see a broken down car on the side of the road? Sure you have... and I'll bet more times than not... it's a jeep. No surprise to me. Wait... where am I going with this? Oh yea...back to the story.
In the summer of Y2K, I went to Reno (again) to pick up my ICUPSJ from the transmission shop (third time's the charm) vowing to my housemate in the morning that when he got home from work that night he would NOT be seeing the ICUPSJ in the driveway. I headed to Reno and after looking at and driving a few different cars/trucks I'd finally settled on a 1994 Nissan 4X4 pick up truck which I would later name "Darla".
My experience with Darla was incredible. She was always ready to go and never really asked for much other than some basic care and feeding (oil changes, tires, a new headlight... just the basics). Really, Darlas' only bad trait was that she was a tad underpowered. Hypothetically, if you were to race Darla against all the cars in Truckee you would find yourself only besting older VW vans and probably most jeeps (their actually faster but would probably break down mid-race). Nope. Speed wasn't one of Darlas' best features but what she gave in return was the piece of mind in knowing that she would start and finish every journey... every time. I would wear out my keyboard in an attempt at recalling even half of Darlas' outings which include countless bike races, interesting road trips, eipc rides , starting Mighty Mobile and much much more. Instead, I'll keep that stored in my memory as just a smidgen of my lifes unique experiences on this tiny little spinning blue ball we call earth.
However, all good things must come to an end and Darla would be no exception. A few weeks ago, I started hearing some excessive and concerning noises coming from the transmission. The noise was different from that of the partially worn throwout bearing noise I'd been predictably hearing for the past 3 years. I didn't know exactly what it was but I did know that it probably wasn't good. I'd always said that I'd drive that truck until I crashed it or something broke and needed repaired but would exceeded what the truck was worth at the time. I'd always wondered about the latter of those two options and if it was an expensive repair... what might it be?? The thought of rebuilding or replacing the transmission wasn't that appealing to me on a truck with shit tons of miles on it. Ya gotta know when to say when. So I started looking around at new (to me) car/truck options. I scanned the internet for used (or "gently loved pre-owned" as their referred to in the industry) cars/trucks and by Sunday evening had narrowed my search down to a short list that I wanted to go and check out. The most promising option was of course the furthest away in Petaluma (3-1/2 hours west of Truckee) with a few others in Sacramento. I felt like my time was limited by some approaching weather that was forecast to start Tuesday evening meaning two things. The first thing was the fact that driving over Donner Pass in a blizzard is probably THE WORST way to start out an already almost too long drive. The second, and more probable, thing is that after almost 6 weeks with no new snow... I'd be skiing!! I figured that if I left early Monday morning and started in Petaluma I could work my way back east towards Truckee looking at and driving different cars/trucks along the way. If I didn't "dally" or otherwise get too sidetracked I'd be home by the late afternoon or early evening leaving me with enough time to do something other than sitting and driving.
The approaching storm was starting to show itself in the way of winds that made the pines sway in a hypnotic non-directional motion high above my driveway. I stumbled out to Darla through the darkness opening the creaky drivers side door, hopped in and brought the engine to life as I sipped on a steaming mug of coffee. As I'd done thousands of times before, I pushed in the clutch, the throwout bearing whirred, I put her into first gear and pulled out of the driveway to start my days journey to Petaluma. It was 5:30 Monday morning.
I used to have a Jeep. An incredibly crappy, unreliable piece of shit Jeep. I truly think that ALL Jeeps are incredibly crappy, unreliable pieces of shit and I think I have a right to say that after laying down my hard earned money for one and then laying down some more hard earned money in a feeble attempt at keeping my incredibly crappy, unreliable piece of shit jeep (from here on to be referred to as: ICUPSJ) on the road. Ever see a broken down car on the side of the road? Sure you have... and I'll bet more times than not... it's a jeep. No surprise to me. Wait... where am I going with this? Oh yea...back to the story.
In the summer of Y2K, I went to Reno (again) to pick up my ICUPSJ from the transmission shop (third time's the charm) vowing to my housemate in the morning that when he got home from work that night he would NOT be seeing the ICUPSJ in the driveway. I headed to Reno and after looking at and driving a few different cars/trucks I'd finally settled on a 1994 Nissan 4X4 pick up truck which I would later name "Darla".
My experience with Darla was incredible. She was always ready to go and never really asked for much other than some basic care and feeding (oil changes, tires, a new headlight... just the basics). Really, Darlas' only bad trait was that she was a tad underpowered. Hypothetically, if you were to race Darla against all the cars in Truckee you would find yourself only besting older VW vans and probably most jeeps (their actually faster but would probably break down mid-race). Nope. Speed wasn't one of Darlas' best features but what she gave in return was the piece of mind in knowing that she would start and finish every journey... every time. I would wear out my keyboard in an attempt at recalling even half of Darlas' outings which include countless bike races, interesting road trips, eipc rides , starting Mighty Mobile and much much more. Instead, I'll keep that stored in my memory as just a smidgen of my lifes unique experiences on this tiny little spinning blue ball we call earth.
However, all good things must come to an end and Darla would be no exception. A few weeks ago, I started hearing some excessive and concerning noises coming from the transmission. The noise was different from that of the partially worn throwout bearing noise I'd been predictably hearing for the past 3 years. I didn't know exactly what it was but I did know that it probably wasn't good. I'd always said that I'd drive that truck until I crashed it or something broke and needed repaired but would exceeded what the truck was worth at the time. I'd always wondered about the latter of those two options and if it was an expensive repair... what might it be?? The thought of rebuilding or replacing the transmission wasn't that appealing to me on a truck with shit tons of miles on it. Ya gotta know when to say when. So I started looking around at new (to me) car/truck options. I scanned the internet for used (or "gently loved pre-owned" as their referred to in the industry) cars/trucks and by Sunday evening had narrowed my search down to a short list that I wanted to go and check out. The most promising option was of course the furthest away in Petaluma (3-1/2 hours west of Truckee) with a few others in Sacramento. I felt like my time was limited by some approaching weather that was forecast to start Tuesday evening meaning two things. The first thing was the fact that driving over Donner Pass in a blizzard is probably THE WORST way to start out an already almost too long drive. The second, and more probable, thing is that after almost 6 weeks with no new snow... I'd be skiing!! I figured that if I left early Monday morning and started in Petaluma I could work my way back east towards Truckee looking at and driving different cars/trucks along the way. If I didn't "dally" or otherwise get too sidetracked I'd be home by the late afternoon or early evening leaving me with enough time to do something other than sitting and driving.
The approaching storm was starting to show itself in the way of winds that made the pines sway in a hypnotic non-directional motion high above my driveway. I stumbled out to Darla through the darkness opening the creaky drivers side door, hopped in and brought the engine to life as I sipped on a steaming mug of coffee. As I'd done thousands of times before, I pushed in the clutch, the throwout bearing whirred, I put her into first gear and pulled out of the driveway to start my days journey to Petaluma. It was 5:30 Monday morning.
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