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Punk Bike – The 20th Year

Each year, Justin and I drive 5 hours across the state to participate in Punk Bike, an event put on by Dirt Rag. And each year, it seems, we ride our bikes less and less. Why?

Because sometimes standing around the keg of Tröegs catching up with friends you haven’t seen since last year’s event is more enjoyable than…

Slogging across a muddy trail:


Or throwing elbows in a derby:


Or charging recklessly downhill:



This year we slogged, threw elbows and were generally reckless with the best of ‘em. But we spent the better part of the enduro catching up with old friends and making new ones. And then, just like that, it was over.

And my bike is 10 pounds heavier to prove it.

Riding in a Winter Wonderland

Though not technically winter, November is when my mountaineering gear gradually makes its way to the forefront of the garage. By now, we’ve typically ascended Mt. Washington’s snowy Lion’s Head trail, cross-country skied through a New England national forest and sunk our ice axes into the first freeze at Champney Falls.

Not this year.

In July, scientists announced the arrival of El Niño, and expected the climate phenomenon to last through winter 2009-10. It looks like they predicted right. Just three weeks shy of the first official day of winter and I can still mountain bike in shorts and a short-sleeved jersey.

Sure, the lack of wintry weather means my gaiters and crampons won’t come out for a while. But I’m not complaining.

My point of view on a sunny day at High Rocks.

Riding Wissahickon in late November in shorts and short sleeves.

Warm Night Air

Of course my last post was about not riding in the dark. Because this one is about riding in the dark. No, I didn’t change my mind. I had company.

It was a balmy 68 degrees yesterday afternoon when I received an offer to ride later that night with my favorite roadie-turned-backpacker (“It’s great off-season cross training!”) -turned-roadie friend.

We set off after the sun had set and rode into the darkness to meet Justin on his commute home. The 15-mile ride felt effortless as we filled up on the unseasonably warm night air. Lights blinked, pedals spun and conversation flowed.




It was beyond enjoyable, undeniably refreshing—and not nearly as terrifying as I had imagined.

The Darkness

My daily commute to meet Justin ended with Daylight Savings. Why? Because it is approaching pitch blackness when I would start my ride. And I’m scared of the dark.

In year’s past I’ve tried to continue the commute into winter, but it’s not enjoyable. In fact, I’m rather terrified to ride my bike alone at night. It’s not the cars that worry me. (The lights on my bike are plentiful and insanely bright.) It’s fear of the unknown: Who’s hiding in that 9-acre stretch of shadowy woods? What will emerge from behind that hedge?

Perhaps I am the only one who thinks about these things, save for my dad who likely passed on the paranoia to me. Really, I think he used to scare himself with his “ghost of Captain Benny” bedtime stories. But, I digress.

This year, my transition from starry sky to cellar is made a bit easier by a recent acquirement—a like-new CycleOps Club Pro 300PT with power tap.


It looks fairly appealing to ride, no? Certainly more appealing than my bike looks sitting in the trainer.

Let’s just hope these looks aren’t deceiving.

Show Off!

It’s been raining. Every weekend. Forcing us indoors to accomplish things we’d rather put off. When it looked like we were about to cross off even more tasks on our ‘to-do’ list yet again this past weekend, we made the call. We would ride—rain or shine.

Cabin fever shoved us outside on a thirty-or-so-mile road ride. Sure it was wet, but the rain cooled us down from the unseasonably warm temperatures. (In case you are unfamiliar, “warm” in Philadelphia and surrounding counties = HUMID.)

The ride was good. The company was even better. And the scenery was phenomenal. Mother Nature is such a show off this time of year.



Heck, I’d flaunt it too if I looked like that!