Faceplant

The Archives: Crashing

2011-01-16T11:07:00.000+13:00

Back in my scarfie days before Facebook, Myspace and Vorb, I made Faceplant on a crapped-out Celeron 433 from the PC company. It's all mildly embarrassing, but worth preserving for posterity.... I think.

Let’s face it, if you ride a mountain-bike, chances are that at some stage you’re gonna crash! Here at Faceplant, in the interests of being informative and showing some form of humanity wish to provide some helpful advice on the age-old tradition of crashing, because mountain-biking is a serious sport, and serious web-sites have hints and tips on riding....

Let it happen, it comes naturally and it's one of the few skills you'll ever have to try hard to learn, but how do you achieve that really special crash? Here’s a few pointers...

Remember, speed and height are your friends!
Ignore those cracks around your head tube, some will say it's a broken frame, we say it's an opportunity.
It's not a crash unless there's blood or bruises, bonus points for broken bones.
If at a popular event, look around for a camera crew or journalists to document your exploits, that way you can sit around with your friends later on with a few beers looking at what happened and remembering the fun times you had (before you ended up in that neckbrace...)
Body armour is for wimps, you want some decent scars to show off to girls at the bar. Nix that tip if you have a girlfriend or wife....
Having said that, an exception would be that you really should wear a full-face helmet, unless sucking mashed peas through a straw and paying for your dentist's new Mercedes appeals to you.

As the most hard-core and experienced rider may know, there’s about two seconds just before your body makes contact with the hard ground or tree, where your mind suddenly processes millions of thoughts. This is often referred to as “MY LIFE FLASHED BEFORE MY EYES!!!”, that may be true, but speaking from personal experience here’s what usually goes through my mind....

awwwwwwnononononononononononoaaaarrrrrgggghhhhhhh!
watch out for that tree, tree, tree, tree, TREE!!!
Go limp, don’t tense up.... yeah right, like that'll make much difference
Fluffing = tweaking, so why did that stem bolt come loose?
You are NOT Brian Lopes, You are NOT Bender, so what the F@#k was that you were trying to do back there?
How much damage will this do to my bike?
CAN I AFFORD WHAT THIS WILL DO TO MY BIKE !?!?
I remember this rock from last time....
This is the last time I try this double.
“oh yeah!” said the salesman, “dual suspension is so safe, you’ll hardly ever crash!” he said...

Why single pivots kick ass.

2011-01-15T10:56:00.000+13:00

I did a wee rave about the bullit and it's ilk over at Stylie's.

Is it bad I really WANT this?

2011-01-14T14:38:00.000+13:00

Behold, BACON EXPLOSION!!! Here’s what you’ll need…

2 pounds thick cut bacon
2 pounds Italian sausage
1 jar of your favorite barbeque sauce
1 jar of your favorite barbeque rub

http://www.bbqaddicts.com/blog/recipes/bacon-explosion/

barred up.

2011-01-12T22:04:00.001+13:00

Oh god. The pie-sized spring for the Bullit's shock is here. Excitement abounds.

I must however, cork the enthusiasm, lest I end up like this guy...

Having said that, the thought of having a whole bunch of squishy travel with which to huck myself of small buildings really has me fizzing at the bung. Hopefully I'll have some evidence of the fun-making sometime soon.

The Archives: Injuries

2011-01-09T13:35:00.002+13:00

Back in my scarfie days before Facebook, Myspace and Vorb, I made Faceplant on a crapped-out Celeron 433 from the PC company. It's all mildly embarrassing, but worth preserving for posterity.... I think.

Have you ever walked down the street and seen someone with a cycling top on looking like a complete punter on their $10000 lizzed-out super-slushee wondering if they've got the goods or are they just there for pose value? Well look no further fellow cynics! Use this page as a reference point, secure in the knowledge that when they look down their nose at you and your humble, faithful steed, you can look 'em straight in the eye and and say with confidence...POSER!

1. Bruised head while not easy to distinguish from outward appearances, be observant when speaking to subject of slurred speech, dribbling and an occasional glazed look in the person's eyes, this is usually an indicator of a head trauma from not wearing a helmet in the event of a crash, or it could be the fact that their attention is focused elsewhere because there's that attractive lycra-covered object from the club rides that you've been lusting after walking behind you.

2.Broken collarbone from being a silly bugger shoulder-charging trees on local downhill run without body armour. A most frequent injury occurring right across the mountainbiking demographic, from experienced downhillers and cross-country riders to beginners who just don't seem to understand the end result of applying too much front brake.

3.Multiple scars from using forearms/elbows as an improvised brake, this practice is not to be encouraged by those teaching learners how to brake. Be sure to apply the same principle to those pesky knees as well.

4. Downhillers: Flabby Gut from too much downhill, not enough uphill. Cross-country: Rock-hard abs from too much uphill, not enough nachos.

5. Perhaps one of the most painful experiences for men in mountainbiking is bruised testies, most often caused by skipped chains and/or jumping escapades gone horribly wrong. Once again it will not be outwardly obvious to distinguish this injury, so pay attention to the person's stance, check for eye dilation and if your mountain biking companion can sing a few octaves higher than your other male friends, be a pal and buy him a new chain. If your female riding partner is walking like she just stepped off riding a donkey for a month, do the same.

6. A sprained wrist can be attributed to using one's wrists as an improvised landing gear. Be aware that telling your friends that they're limp-wristed is not the best way to increase your popularity...

7. Twisted knees from continuous clipping in/out of clipless pedals, most common on riders taking part in cross-country, some downhillers actually aquire some skill and use bear-traps or flats on downhills, thereby avoiding this problem altogether.

8. Chainring gouges in calf muscle, most frequently occurs on slippery pedals while trying to jump in the middle chainring.

The Archives: Sifting

2011-01-07T08:11:00.001+13:00

Back in my scarfie days before Facebook, Myspace and Vorb, I made Faceplant on a crapped-out Celeron 433 from the PC company. It's all mildly embarrassing, but worth preserving for posterity.... I think.
I should also note that "sifting" used to refer to a somewhat dubious night out on the town trying to find a member of the opposite sex to keep you warm at night. These days its supposed meanings are far more innocent. Although after what I saw over the holidays, the first one seems far more appropriate.

You thought all of that riding would bring you success, you'd be the ultimate chick/stud-puller with your rock hard legs and wash-board abs from all the miles you were putting in the saddle. Then you discovered downhill, and all of a sudden riding uphill and getting fit became nothing more than a hassle...

Girls, you've got it made if you plan to meet a guy through your biking pursuits, rough statistics (and no way am I going to try and back this up, so don't ask me to...) show that around seventy-percent of mountain-bikers are male. Guys, put plainly, you're screwed, there's a lot of competition out there, best thing to do is spend your time on the bike concentrating on winning those races and spend your time off it in pubs and nightclubs with your mates searching for a prospective soul-mate to have a deep and meaningful relationship with, or your motives may be more dubious, in any case, enjoy!

True, wheelies may impress the girls, but somehow I don't think the bouncer is going to let you in with that bike you're riding...
Repeat after me: Talking gear does not make you attractive, the opposite sex isn't necessarily interested in your LX/XT/SRAM/ST-bloody-X groupset, nor are they interested in your titanium sphincter valve.
Guys, have you got shaved legs? Use them to your advantage, for some strange reason most women if they notice this just have to run their hands up and down them to see how smooth they are (or it could be some bizarre lesbian thing, I honestly don't know...)
Girls, let a guy know you could kick his arse on two-wheels, testosterone and male pride usually dictates that they'll challenge you to a race the next day, ensnaring himself in your venomous grip.
Avoid rugby-heads and rugby-head bars, on a Friday night before the game they'll be empty. Girls, you'll end up going home with a guy who'll go on about either his fantastic game or his favourite rugby team's chance in the NPC or Super12. Guys, you won't be going home with no-one, if you don't play the game, you're not a real man to rugby-head-chicks.
Don't try and meet partners through MTB chat-rooms, usually people behave with the mentality of five-year-olds in these places...oh, and that athletic, young 18 year old of the opposite sex you're talking to could quite well be a 41-year-old of the same sex who doesn't even ride...Ugh.
Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights are for sifting, not training rides.
You might think that wearing your body-armor into a nightclub under your clothes may make you look pumped-up like Arnie or Sly Stallone, then again it may make you look like a clown who doesn't know how to dress properly, in any case, it's incredibly bad dress-taste and should be avoided altogether.

See what happens when you say you're a sponsored rider, three possible outcomes:

They'll think you're incredibly vain...
They'll be terribly impressed, especially if they're MTB ignorant and have no idea that your local sponsor is Joe's Fish 'n Chip shop on the corner.
They'll act like they're terribly impressed, only because they're a keen member of the MTB fraternity and they're keen on scoring some free schwag.

Lines that you should never use while sifting out on the trail...

"Like a tire, I'm ribbed for your pleasure"
"Nice shorts, wanna shag?"
"Wanna lube my stanchion?"

Guys, don't go out and try to infiltrate a women's riding week, not only will you most likely be found out and beaten to a bloody pulp with and a pedal wrench, you'll also be horribly demoralised from having so many girls roosting you on the trail.

Remember, man (nor woman) cannot live on bikes alone. If he/she rides, cool, no doubt you've found your soul-mate, if they don't I wouldn't stress about it, they're the ones that keep you from doing really stupid things like blowing your next mortgage payment on a set of anodised purple quick-releases.

New bike! Back to the future!

2011-01-06T07:59:00.000+13:00

Stylie is a wonderful man. I've been taking my time in-between baby feeds and impromptu naps to build up this:

2010 Santa Cruz Bullit, seven inches of single-pivot travel wrapped up in a tasty red paint job. I spent a lot of last week hand-wringing over what I wanted to do with it, full-on gravity sled for doing shuttles or heavy-duty all-mountain rig? Given the parts I had lying around I went for the former, this sin't much of a problem in the long run because I remembered this:

My original 2003 Bullit, I bought this second-hand back in 2006 after waiting far too long for Santa Cruz to release the new version. I built this thing up in so many different configurations that by the time I moved it on I was trail-riding it every day. So maybe with a few component changes my current bike might end up the same way, who knows? That's part of the fun on owning a frame like this.

Much fun and merriment shall commence.

Weights room, how I missed you

2011-01-05T07:38:00.000+13:00

First hit out in the weights room since bubs was born this morning, I'm not big on being indoors doing the whole 'exercise' thing but since I work somewhere that gives me access to use that sort of stuff I might as well make the most of it, right?

I thought I'd be ten-foot tall and bullet-proof and load up the bars with what I was doing before I had my break, turns out it wasn't that hard. Which leads me to the following conclusions:

I wasn't lifting enough initially.
My technique's pretty good.
NEED MORE WEIGHT ON THE BARS!

So in short, I need to stop arsing around.

Which brings me onto this picture, I found it while looking for a generic picture of a weights room in action that didn't look mildly homo-erotic but surprisingly enough, found this far more entertaining. This picture concerns me:

Who let her into a weights room wearing that? While I'm sure the boys would love it, the heels that no doubt go with something like this ensemble would be a major health and safety issue.
Standard issue Olympic bar is twenty kilograms, each of those weights plates is twenty kilograms, by my reckoning she's about to lift 140 kilograms. If she can lift that I need to seriously lift my game...
She may be a spotter, in which case the person lifting the weights must be feeling pretty stoked with themselves.

In short, picture contains much win and is entirely believable. Totally.

The Archives: Drinking

2011-01-04T14:00:00.001+13:00

Back in my scarfie days before Facebook, Myspace and Vorb, I made Faceplant on a crapped-out Celeron 433 from the PC company. It's all mildly embarrassing, but worth preserving for posterity.... I think. This was written by my mate, Ash.

There comes a time in every young mountain bikers life when he is faced with the prospect of indulging in a drop of the devils brew, or alcohol if you will. Sometimes it's a celebration; sometimes it is simply a response to the knocks and bumps of day to day life. And in a world where there are such things as broken bikes and temperamental girlfriends, walking-only tracks and Boyzone videos is it any wonder a bloke occasionally turns to the bottle?

Now this is not such a bad thing so long as a fellow maintains some kind of control. As long as, to put it simply, he drinks his fill but doesn't go on to make a complete and utter arsehole of himself. The following is a step-by-step guide to help you avoid the common pitfalls often overlooked by many a young bike- riding drinker.

The Scenario...

Let's assume that you have been invited to a friends 21st birthday bash. It is a major event on the social calendar of you and your friends that has been eagerly anticipated and looks set to be a huge occasion. In order to gain maximal enjoyment and make it a memorable event it is wise to take heed of the advice outlined below.

Preparation...

Preparation is the key to a successful evening. One should be well rested, hydrated and have a full stomach. This involves taking it easy during the day, drinking plenty of non-alcoholic beverages and eating a good solid meal before leaving for the party. A long afternoon at the mountain bike club annual break-up, drinking copious amounts of beer, playing cricket and eating only one half of a burnt sausage is not advised. And sitting on a boat fishing for five hours in the mid-afternoon sun consuming two dozen Speights and a packet of sea -sickness pills is simply asking for trouble.

What to drink...

Sticking to one thing is recommended. Beer is a good option as its alcohol content is fairly low. If you arrive at the party and find that your friends father has laid on a huge array of expensive liquor, you're in trouble, as one thing, and one thing only, will pass through your pea-sized brain - "All of this is free. As much as I can pour down my gullet, absolutely free!" But alas, as you will find out in the morning nothing is ever completely free.

Knowing your capacity...

If you possess documentary film evidence showing that after four light beers you will:

attempt to jump a car on your kid brothers' chopper, Hans Rey style.
Perform the Divinyls I Touch Myself to the accompaniment of the karaoke machine, then
attempt to remove your trousers over the top of head

would it therefore be wise to throw down 17 handles of Speights, a bottle of Southland Crème and three flaming Opal Neras?

Peer Pressure...

The lads may be terrific chums. Each of them in his own way, is a prince. Nevertheless, you should be aware that occasionally they do not have your best interests at heart. Sad but true. Late in the evening, when they promise you that you would be a hell of a great guy and chicks would really dig you if you were to take off all your clothes, ride the knee-high-flyer around the room and make motocross noises, they are, I'm afraid, not being helpful, nor are they instructing you in vital social skills for the future.

Judgement...

It is worth remembering here that the world will appear an entirely different place through the bottom of your 10th jug. You will labour under the misapprehension that all women are beautiful, and the delusion that they are sending out, to you and you alone, signals of sexual availability. "Don't be shy" they seem to be saying "just go for it big boy."
Similarly your hearing may become defective. Normally clear sentences such as, "If you don't stop that now I'm going to call my husband," tend to be heard as "Would you like to fondle my breasts?"
Conversation...

You must realise that once you begin to speak you will not be able to hide the fact that you are drunk. You will either a) Speak fluent Swahili, b) Spit, drool and dribble embarrassing strangers who will be unsure whether or not you are handicapped, or most likely c) Speak absurdly slowly and carefully, the way a drunk driver thinks no-one will notice if he hugs the gutter and drives at 15 kph.

If possible do not address anyone with your face half an inch from theirs. The majority of sane people find this disturbing and will either make a hasty retreat or punch you.

It is also prudent not to drunkenly inform a fellow that you recently enjoyed sexual congress with his wife.

Seduction...

There is, unfortunately, only a short period of time between the point when you've had enough to drink to allow you the courage and wit to front the girl, and the point where you've had so much to drink as to be barely coherent, and certain to make a nuisance of yourself. You must strike within that short period of time. If she laughs gaily and rubs provocatively against you, it is a sign that you have timed it correctly. On the other hand, if she tosses a drink in your face and her brother puts you in a headlock, I think you can safely assume that you left your run a tad late.

Generally speaking, if you are half cut, opening gambits such as referring to your genitalia as a "pump action love gun" or a "pulsating joystick", or introducing yourself with the song lyrics "I'm going to give you my love, every inch of my love" are unlikely to impress.

Departing...

Finally, it is important to make a timely and gracious exit. It can fairly be said that a) Collapsing face down into the intricately hand-crafted birthday cake, b) having to be carried out by frantic paramedics attempting to resuscitate you, or c) Being dragged out by police while screaming to horrified party goers that you'll return with a sawn-off shotgun in order to "Kill all youse f***in mongrel bastards" hardly fit this description.

Still, these lapses can be forgotten and laughed off in time. There is something worse. If you are that man who refuses to leave till dawn or till the last drink is downed, droning on pathetically about sexual failures and threatening to read his self-penned poetry. If you do this you are assured of never being invited back.

Time to back up on yesterday's effort

2011-01-03T13:01:00.000+13:00

After yesterday's ride my legs were a bit toasted, so today it was time to give them another throw up the hill and see how the body responded.

Again, I surprised myself, it was quite good. I chucked on the GPS on the phone just so I could show you guys where I'm going, you can check it out here.

Bring the pain

2011-01-02T12:53:00.000+13:00

So the first step in the kegs-be-gone plan is to shock my body into thinking "holy shit maing! WTF are you doing to me?!?!?", North Road hill climbs on the roadie should do it, a 6.5km climb over 343m.

I've been looking for something that I could approach in a brain-dead way that offered high-intensity without taking up heaps of time. Back when I was really into my roadies I did this for four weeks straight, slowly hauling my portly physique up the hill in a big gear. Funnily enough I wasn't so portly after doing it day-in-day-out.

Okay, it wasn't as much fun as shredding singletrack but it got results, so I might as well try it out again.

before the crank swap

Meet the slow one, a humorous take on my BMC's model designation (SL01) and an accurate reflection on the pilot's abilities. Over the years I've had to replace the frame and I've upgraded it to some 7800 Dura-ace, the latest upgrade was getting rid of the compact crankset. As long as there is cartilage in my knees I figure if you're going to do hills on a road bike you might as well do them hard, right?

Today's ride was a pleasant surprise, I thought I was going to DIE on the first pinch out of North East Valley but things seemed to go quite well and I managed a 35:00 flat to the lookout plaque. Not bad, I wonder what sort of time I can pull at the end of January?

Curse you, tasty treats!

2011-01-01T11:54:00.000+13:00

Okay, So one of my goals for 2011 is to reduce the pies. Maybe become a little more whippet and a little less Clydesdale-class.

Putting that up here kinda sucks, because I now have to front up on that goal with everyone watching. All the motivational speakers out there say you should write your goals down, when you do that you give the goal some tangibility, solidity, a bit of purpose. The problem for me being that it's easy to lose that paper and forget it, finding it sometime later at the back of the sock-and-jock draw long after the deadline has passed.

I find broadcasting them on the internet is far more entertaining. I shall call it kegs-be-gone, and I will do it.

Back to the future

2011-01-01T11:49:00.000+13:00

There's some things I want to do during 2011, this is one of them.

Yup, it seems a bit weird but I'm back at this old grindstone, resurrecting a relic of what seems like ages past. Faceplant was a web-zine I started off on Geocities (remember them?) during the late 90's, over the next few years it started getting quite a bit of traffic. Vorb then came along and I flagged the whole web-site thing to go waste time over there with Tama and co.

I'm no longer a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed scarfie with time to burn, these days I'm more a time-poor married father-of-one. However, I still like pies... and beer, riding bikes and talking about them.

Change happens, for better or worse I'm finding myself wanting to go back to expressing myself . So here we are.

Welcome to my own little corner of the internet.