Flipped Scripts

I guess some things have been going on here behind the scenes while I've been blerhging about Breck Epic and the '17 Mancation.

I had actually been making a very half-assed attempt on my part to get a full suspension bike since mid-August.  Half-assed on my part entirely.  My gung ho has dwindled slightly tho, as complications in life like a busted wheel and a dead iPhone have reminded me that I like simple things for simple reasons... although I've "downgraded" my phone and the Meatplow V.6 By:Stickel is back up and running as of last night.

I can not lie and say that having this bike back together the way I like it doesn't restore some sense of irrational peace.  The physical manifestation of my ego as the Meatplow V.7 Vertigo is my id.  I need them both apparently.

"The id remains infantile in it's function throughout a persons life, and does not change with time or experience, as it is not in touch with the external world. The id is not affected by reality, logic or the everyday world, as it operates within the unconscious part of the mind. The id operates on the pleasure principle (Freud, 1920) which is the idea that every wishful impulse should be satisfied immediately, regardless of the consequences.

The ego operates according to the reality principle, working out realistic ways of satisfying the ids demands, often compromising or postponing satisfaction to avoid negative consequences of society. The ego considers social realities and norms, etiquette and rules in deciding how to behave. Like the id, the ego seeks pleasure (i.e. tension reduction) and avoids pain, but unlike the id the ego is concerned with devising a realistic strategy to obtain pleasure. The ego has no concept of right or wrong; something is good simply if it achieves its end of satisfying without causing harm to itself or to the id. "
source: simplypsychology.org

In short, the By:Stickel is me trying to be normal.  The Vertigo is me letting me be me... despite my best interests in self preservation.

Anyways, about the squish and dangles, I just don't know if I have it in me to make my life complicated on purpose... like I did the first time seven years ago (according to FaceBook).

Ah, mammaries.

I did decide to mess with the positioning on my Meatplow V.7 Vertigo.  I realized that I've always had my custom bikes built with longer-than-normal-for-a-man-four-apples-tall head tube.  That started way back in my high-posting days.  Now, with the advantage of a drooper, it seems like I should be able to descend confidently even with a lower handlebar position... because... science?

Lower handle bar = increased front traction.

So I bought a 10° rise (negative in this case) Thomson stem, replaced the taller Cane Creek Viscoset upper cup with a standard 110, pitched the spacers, and did the driveway wheelie test... which proves nothing really.

I went for a ride at the sorta demanding local trail, Rocky River, AKA Steve's.  Punchy climbs, berms, fast descents, rock fields, steep roll-ins.  A good mixed bag.  From the first turn, I could tell the bike was handling better, but...

I'm so old.  My back hated everything, not to mention that the extra weight on my hands combined with the rigid frok?  I was ded.  For 13 miles.  I was gonna quit the ride when we got back to the parking lot, but Jerry was willing to wait while I flipped my shit, and I rode 7 more miles on a boner stem.  I was immediately relieved from my pains.

So, what did I learn?

Mostly, what I already know.  I might try to drop my stem this winter... gradually.  I never measured everything before and after (like I shoulda), but I'm guessing I went more than an inch lower.  Too much all at once, for sure.  Or maybe too much altogether unless I start doing yoga or taking HGH to slow down the aging process.

The bike rallied with the boner stem tho, so I guess I'm leaving it on there for the Fool's Gold 60 this weekend.  Yeth, I decided to extend my "season" a bit.  I miss being on the start line with racer boi aspirations.  It's been since the Pisgah 111K back in May, unless you include the first 1/3 of Stage One at the Trans-Sylvania Epic.  I miss the rush of feels.  The panic.  The pain.  The relief when it's all said and done.  It really does make the post-race beer taste all that much better.

We'll see.