At least once a year I ride my mountain bike on appropriately mountain-bikey terrain out at Ingolf with the FGBC guys, and a few ABES too. It's a great weekend full of great weekend stuff. Including drinks and chips and foods of various varieties. And the weather doesn't matter because it's a hardy bunch that isn't afraid to get wet and dirty, or to decide not to get wet and dirty. It will all be good.
But the bike. Oh my bike. I'm still riding a Giant hard-tail, purchased second-hand by way of DS. It's been modified and made better, somewhat, but there's so much about it I would like to change. Alas, I so seldom ride trails that I, well, can't muster the argument to free up the cash to do it right. (Which would probably be to buy a different bike; isn't that always the better answer? I've never actually owned a new trail bike. Will that ever happen? You know, before the rapture?) So tonight I changed the tires (from IRC Mythos to Ritchie ExcaVaders - both old, but the Ritchies are less old, and more aggressive), lubed the chain, adjusted the rear derailleur (a stiff old Deore DX) and the brakes (still no discs for me), and tried to make the old Gripshift shift smoother (a lost cause I do believe).
By the end of the hour it's all working. That is working well enough for a ride on the dirt and gravel around here. How it will serve me out on the rocks and hills and water of the Whiteshell remains to be experienced. We've managed before, we shall manage again. But oh how, even for that one great ride a year, a good new bike seems like it really might be the only answer (mutters about lottery tickets and luck).
Ride report
in: 7'C wind 20 ks NNE
out: 11'C wind 25 ks NNW
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