Touring Tips/PSA: Handlebar Cell Phone Mounts

Ok, I needed to get on here to post a quick PSA of sorts. For the past five years or so, I've used one of those handlebar-mounted cell phone holders. They're great. They hold your phone while you ride so you're free to listen to some tunes, check your map, write a blog post, google "what are bear sounds," etc. I've advocated for them to folks in the past due of their usefulness. They've definitely made my touring life much easier.

That said, I realized a few years ago that while they're great for me they may not be the best for my phone. Now, before I continue, let me just say that nothing I'm about the write has been proven as fact, just as reasonable hunch. Additionally, I own zero stock in any bicycle equipment companies, though I do really like the folks at Nutcase.

Disclaimers aside, I'm pretty sure that handlebar-mounted cell phone holders wreak havoc on the touch screens of some cell phones. I'm not going to say which cell phones I've specifically had this problem with, just that it's happened to a variety of them, from multiple manufacturers. And I don't blame the phones, so no point in dragging them.

This thing. In the red box. I blame this thing.

But what I've noticed is that after a tour, usually within a month or two, my touchscreen goes to complete crap. It's happened to at least three phones of mine, and after the last one, I started to get suspicious. I'm real sharp like that. A tack. By "goes to complete crap," I mean that they get less responsive, less reliable, and more chaotic. And with time, the lesses got lesser, and the mores morer, until I'd have to get a new phone.

So my gut feeling is that all the potholes, rumble strips, and dirt roads shake the shit out of the inside of the phone so much that, over time, it craps out. That seems reasonable, right? Like, if you put your phone in a paint can shaker at Home Depot, and it stopped working after (even though there was no visible damage), you'd think, "yeah, that makes sense to me."

As an inquisitive person, I've taken these different dying phones apart and have found nothing wrong with them. I mean, I'm not a trained professional or a robot that could link up R2D2-style and perform a proper diagnostic analysis, but all the screws were still tight and nothing was rattling around in there. But still, the touchscreens all had similar problems. And all the problems happened after a tour. 

Does the correlation imply causation? I dunno. But I just wanted to get it out there before you broke your brand new phone. At this point, I think I would recommend one of those arm band phone holders that runners wear. Let your body absorb the shock. Alternatively, someone could come up with a shock absorbing handlebar mount. I'd pay upwards of $25 (USD) for something like that. Oooh, and give it a little waterproof rain cover as well as a sound funnel to boost the speakers. Yeah. Make that. Send me one to test and review. I'll give it 5-stars.

Touring Tip: Setting up Camp

I have set up camp so many times that I mostly do it on autopilot at this point.  Muscle memory is a good thing to have when wrapping up a twelve hour day of riding.  Thinking isn't always an option when you're an exhausted, dehydrated, electrolyte depleted mess.

Bertha Creek Campground in the Chugach National Forest

The thing with muscle memory, though, is that it takes a lot of repetition to really make your muscles remember.  Muscles are pretty dumb like that.  So for those of you who don't have that tour camping muscle memory yet, here's a list of the things I do once I reach camp.  Feel free to use and modify it to build your own routine, or at the very least, to allow yourself to think less after a hard day:

1. Find Campsite - I usually camp near showers because I don't like long walks after long rides.  If you're a light sleeper, your preference may be to camp as far from other people as possible.  Whatever the case may be, don't just grab the first site you see.  Put at least a tiny bit of thought into it as not all sites were created equal.


2. Pitch Tent ASAP - Don't linger on this one.  As soon as you get to camp, set up your tent.  Aside from removing any question about site ownership, it gives you a place to put the stuff you're about to unload from your bike.


3. Set up the Inside of the Tent - While you still have tent pitch momentum, inflate your bedroll and lay out your sleeping bag.  You'll be happy they're already arranged when you get back relaxed from a hot shower.


4. Start Cooking - Start prepping dinner.  Water takes a while to boil and you can do other things while waiting.


5. Prep for Shower - Get out your toiletries and bed clothes.  This way you can head straight to the showers after you eat.


6. Put Bags in Tent/Bear Box - Your meal kit and toiletries are out, so put the rest of your stuff in the tent.  You'll have to do it eventually, may as well do it now.  If you're in bear country, all scented items should go in a nearby bear box.


7. Eat/Clean Up - At most campgrounds, this is pretty straight forward.  But again, if you're in bear country, any scented non-garbage should go in the bear box.


8. Lock Bike - Before leaving camp to shower, secure your bike.  I usually lock to a picnic bench or tree.  Your bike is probably not going to be stolen, but why risk it?


9. Shower Time/Laundry - Wash up, you filthy beast.  Also, wash your day's riding clothes (shirt, shorts, socks) while you're in the shower.  You'll get a rash, otherwise.  


10. Dishes - Wash your dishes in the bathroom sink after the shower.  This step may be optional depending on how you eat.


11. Hang Wet Clothes from Bike - This will not dry them, but will get them closer to it.


12. Pull Tarp over Bike - Tarping your bike will keep it dry overnight.  Even if it doesn't rain, morning dew will soak your saddle.  Make sure to tuck the tarp under the tires so it doesn't flap around in the wind at night.

At this point you're free!  Do whatever you want!  Explore the campgrounds, phone a friend, read a book, or just go to bed.  The world is your oyster and you have a bed waiting for you when you're ready to crash.

Touring Tip: Not Dying in the Summer

Gang, it's the middle of summer so hopefully all of you are out enjoying the weather while you can, possibly on your bicycle.  Those freezing cold winter rides are finally a distant memory.  No more toes going numb.  No more hands getting chapped and cracked.  No more frozen boogers that thaw as soon as you reach the office forcing you to beeline to your desk to blow your nose before someone stops you to ask you if you saw that email from old so and so and can you believe they changed that policy and are you sick?  Your nose is running; don't touch me if you're sick.  Ha ha, just kidding.  But seriously, that email.  Also seriously, don't touch me.

Yup, now you have a whole different set of riding problems, the top being heat exhaustion, sun stroke, and dehydration.  And those are just the potentially fatal ones!  Non-lethal include mosquitoes, bear attacks, and overcrowded campgrounds.  But hey, at least you're not cold, right?

If you plan on touring this summer, you probably don't want to die.  With that in mind, here are some tips for spitting in the face of nature and staying alive:

• Stay Hydrated - Drink a lot of water.  Constantly.  Do not wait until you are thirsty to drink water.  If you are thirsty, you are already far behind in your water consumption.  Refill your water bottles every single chance you get.  Even if you still have over half a bottle, if you find a water fountain, you drink as much as you can and then fill back up.  I cannot stress enough how important it is to constantly be drinking water.  Clear pee is your best friend.


• Stay Electrolyted - This one goes hand in hand with the above.  As you ride, you will sweat.  If you are like Tibor, you will sweat profusely.  As you sweat, you will lose a lot of salt.  This will be very noticeable at the end of a ride when the sweat dries from your limbs leaving a thin (sometimes thick) layer of salt crystals.  Since you're losing all of this salt, you are going to need to replace it, especially as you are rehydrating.  An electrolyte imbalance (caused by losing all your salt but still maintaining all your water) can be just as dangerous as dehydration (when imbalanced, your internal neuron network's electrical grid starts to fail), and can have similar symptoms and arguably way more disturbing ones to boot.  Lightheadedness is a surefire sign that I'm getting unbalanced, so I don't ignore any brain haze while riding.  To manage your electrolytes, add a supplement to your fluid intake.  Coconut water is a natural solution, Gatorade also works, and Nuun tabs are a low sugar alternative.  You could also take Salt Stick tablets or bring a bottle of pickle juice.


• Zinc-Based Sunblock - Keep the sun off of your delicate skin with a high SPF, zinc-based sunblock.  Not only will zinc prevent you from getting sun stroke, it will keep you unburned and decrease your chances of getting both wrinkles and skin cancer.  If you can, steer clear from Oxybenzone-based sunblocks as they are quite bad for the environment.


• Take Breaks in the Shade - Listen to your body.  If you don't feel great, take a break.  And when you take a break, do it in the shade.  There is no shame in taking 20 breaks over 100 miles if it means you aren't going to collapse along the side of the road and have to be taken by ambulance to a hospital.  The EMT is not going to properly lock up your bike before carting you off.  How are you going to finish your tour from a hospital without a bicycle?

Oh, and probably don't ride your bike in the middle of the desert in August?  I feel like I should have to tell you that one, but some of you just have really bad ideas.

Here's a nice place to ride a bike!

Southern State Parks: Pricey RV Campgrounds

A couch in Cayce might not have the charm of a tent in the woods, but after a week of $30/night ACOE Campgrounds and State Parks, my wallet needed a break.  Don't get me wrong, I enjoy State and National Parks a great deal, and I think they serve many important purposes from conservation to education to appreciation, but dang, the ones in the South are not cheap.  And they're also not really meant for cyclists or other non-RV campers.  I don't know that that's their fault, though.  I think they have a single price point because the only people that really visit them are RV folk.  It's probably too hot all summer for them to attract a major tent campers contingent, so why bother wasting space on them, right?  Just put an electrical outlet and water pump at every spot, charge a flat fee, and watch the RV-shaped sacks of money roll in.

Other than being high price and RV-filled, those State Parks and ACOEs still were beautiful reprieves after days of unforested riding.  They surprised me the same way the parks in the South Dakotan plains had.  After spending a whole day riding through flat, wide open, SD farm lands, I'd be shocked to find myself suddenly winding through dense forest that seemed entirely out of place without having to first pass through a false walled wardrobe.  The same happened in Alabama.  I'd go from a long day of highway riding to being chased by dogs through the woods in the blink of an eye.  And after escaping the dogs, I'd find myself in a park full of trees alongside a manmade lake.  A lot of Southern campgrounds seem to have a body of water attached to it, which makes sense with that godawful heat.  Did I say lake?  I meant swimmin' hole.

This is not from a Southern State Park.  This is in Colorado.  I just like the picture.

And that heat is interminable.  In July and August, you'll sweat as hard at night as you do during the day.  If you're touring down there, make sure to pack a tent with as much ventilation as possible and don't bother with a blanket.  Alternatively, a mosquito net and a rain tarp would work, but I prefer the tent since it weighs about the same and protects better during storms (September is storm season, and most camp sites are fairly wide open up above, even if the park is in a forest).  Maybe even pack a small fan to run during the night.  It can keep you cool and add a little white noise, which can be nice if the couple in the RV across from you like to get up at dawn to walk their hound dogs.

But back to the Southern State Parks.  Another thing to know is that they close heckin' early.  It's not that big of a deal with a bicycle, as gates are designed to keep cars out, not people, but if you're road tripping by car, be warned.  If you show up to camp after dark, there's a good chance you'll be locked out.  That is definitely the case with ACOEs.  If that happens, I'd say just keep driving until you can find a Walmart parking lot to take a power nap in while waiting for the next park to open in the morning.

Finally, the staffs at these campgrounds are all pretty laid back.  Sometimes almost nonexistent.  Why, if one wanted to, one could probably roll into camp late at night and then leave early in the morning without ever seeing a single park staffer.  Not even the staffers that enforce the fee collections.  Yup.  One could if they were so inclined.

But listen, with the high price point of those campgrounds and the terrible heat, it may not be a bad idea to keep an eye out for low price motels some nights.  Especially nights with severe thunderstorms rolling through.  Thunderstorms full of lightning, the great white shark of the sky.  There's really no shame in spending $40 on a motel with A/C and a mattress when you'd otherwise be spending $30 on a small dirt pad surrounded by RVs.

Southern Convenience Food: Pickled Eggs and Beyond

Before heading too much farther (further also works) north, I need to talk about the convenience store food I encountered while touring in the South.  Not to get too high on my horse, but I fancy myself a bit of a gas station gourmet.  Burned coffee that's been sitting out all day?  Fill 'er up.  Egg salad sandwiches past their expiration date?  White and wheat.  Stale crackers with imitation cheese filling?  I wouldn't turn down a six or an eight.  To say the very least, and reiterate what is clearly common knowledge, my palate is pretty refined.

That said, for as much experience as I had going into this, I still had no idea what sort of culinary adventure I'd be embarking on when heading to the South.  Would everything be cooked in pork fat, leaving me rail thin after a vegetarian tour?  Would all their coffee have hints of chicory, leaving me exhausted as I repeatedly turned down their gross coffee with that unnecessary flavor addition?  Would there even be convenience stores that would cater to a yank like me, or would I be run out of town the moment I uttered my first undrawled word?  I was heading into uncharted territory.  A place no one had ever gone before.  I was a modern Christopher Columbus.  No, the Vikings.  No!  I was just like the Paleo-Indians!  A real historical figure of great courage, I was!

After all those weeks of riding, I can now authoritatively say that, while I missed Wawa, Southern convenience stores are wonderful in their own right.  There seemed to be more Mom N' Pop style stores along the way, especially down in Mississippi and Alabama, which meant I even found some homemade food, something you don't see too often in the Northeast.  Also, the non-chain stops seemed to have less of a focus on cleanliness and more of a focus on self-service, an upgrade in expedience that I will take in a non-third world country.  Hmm... those may not be selling points for a lot of you.  If not, here are what I consider the three biggest:

1. Hannah's Pickled Eggs - If any one thing can be used to gauge your depth within the South, I believe it's the availability of Hannah's Pickled Eggs (Hannah's Pickled anything, really, as there is no shortage of Pickled Sausages and Pickled Pigs Feet).  While tough to find in the Carolinas, once you venture into the deeper South (AL, MS), any self-respecting convenience store will have an open 5-gallon jug of individual retail, pink, pickled eggs, with Hannah's being the most common option.  And next to that jug will be either a box of cheap sandwich bags or a stack of hotdog trays in which to put your selected eggs.  If you're lucky, there will also be a set of tongs for fishing them out.  If you're not lucky, there will instead be a layer of hand-dirt floating along the meniscus.  Regardless of the self-service pickled egg delivery system that you're presented with, be assured that if you can find a jug of Hannah's in your travels, it will be a good day.
   
   

   

   AmericanFoodsGroup.com



2. Pimento Cheese Sandwiches - I am certain that even the most atheistic vegan would agree that Pimento Cheese is a gift directly from God.  For those not in the know, Pimento Cheese is a delicious salty, cheesy spread that can be delivered via any bleached carb, with white bread being my preference.  The best part about Mom N' Pop shops is that there's a good chance that they'll make and package their own sandwiches, with each recipe just a little different along the way (and with none providing any real nutritional value).  This means you can eat a Pimento Cheese sandwich every day on tour and never get the same one twice.  This is why Pimento Cheese is commonly referred to as the Snowflake of the South.
   
   

   

   FoodNetwork.com



3. Long Boys and Uncle Al's Planks - These last two entries were impulse buys at a check-out, and they did not disappoint.  Long Boys are just tootsie rolls made of toasted coconut rather than chocolate.  Planks are just thin vanilla cookies with different flavored icing, strawberry and lemon being my two favorites.  They are both delicious treats, and each is elegant in its simplicity.  That's right, I called them elegant.  I can do that because I'm a gourmet.
   
   

   

   OldTimeCandy.com

   

   BudsBestCookies.com

This would not be a fair and balanced review if I didn't tell you about the negatives.  My only culinary disappointment was the complete lack of self-serve pickled okra.  As an okra fan, I really wish there had been open jugs of pickled okra just sitting out.  Other than that, Southern Convenience Store Food gets a great big high five of approval followed up by a complicated series of hand slaps and fist bumps.

Rainy Day Riding

It rained all day today.  It rained all day in the above photo too.  It sure does rain a lot sometimes.

Oh, how I hate the driving rain,
The blowing, slowing, soaking rain,
Blinding sheets and eyeball strain,
Frozen skin and muscle pain.

Wind numbed digits start to shake,
Churning knees begin to ache.
Maybe I should take a break?
Rest won't make a fraud or fake...

Freezing gusts drive me insane,
Stormy thoughts torment my brain.
Frozen flesh still burns with pain?
Why am I on bike, not in a train?

My mind begins to darkly learn,
It's only worse at every turn,
No escape for me from icy burn,
No warm respite, for which I yearn.

But through the blowing, slowing rain,
I find a calm I can't explain,
A cooler head returns to reign,
My hopeful spirits back again.

It's how it goes when out on tour,
Wind can blow and rain can pour,
A happy ride sometimes a chore,
Until the joy returns once more.

Muscles mend and knees unsprain,
Struggles leave, and strengths remain,
One day to suffer, a life to gain,
Come to think... I can't complain.

PSA: OTC Cold Medicine and Cycling

Having spent the last four days alternating between DayQuil hazes and NyQuil (I wanted to say "dazes" for the sake of rhyming, but we all know that's not how NyQuil works) blackouts, I wanted to put out a little PSA for anyone that's on tour and fighting off a cold.  I've been in your clipped-in shoes, person.  I know how it feels to be on the road, a few days out from your next scheduled stop, with swollen glands, a hacking cough, and a throat that burns with every breath.  A bad cold can put you in a real tough spot.  If you take some rest days, it could possibly throw off your whole schedule.  If you don't take some rest, there's the chance that things will get worse and end your whole tour.  What is a cyclist to do?

I think most people would say to just take some time off.  In a black and white world, that is the best solution.  And on a lot of bicycle websites, I'm sure you'll get that very advice.  Take some time off and rest.  It's the safest, most responsible thing to do.  No one ever died from some R&R, right?

Well, this blog isn't like most bicycle websites (at your peril, possibly).  No, sir or madam or n/a.  The safest advice isn't always the most practical, and I lean towards practicality.  Sure, you shouldn't touch a hot pot, but how are you going to strain your macaroni if you don't?  What?  Are you going to wait for it to cool completely?  But you're hungry now and mac n' cheese is better hot!  Face your fears and get an oven mitt on!  That said, if you get sick on tour, and don't have the luxury of taking some time off (it happens to a lot of us that poorly schedule our tours), you need the rhinovirus-oriented version of an oven mitt: OTC Cold Medicine.

I'm not sick anymore, but this view of Crater Lake is.

But here's the deal, life on cold medicine can be difficult.  For example, I started writing this two days ago when I was halfway through a dose of DayQuil, and now here I am two days later finally able to string sentences together into complete thoughts (please direct all snark to the comments section below).  Sitting down attempting to concentrate becomes difficult.  Walking around your apartment without bumping into the tables and counter tops becomes difficult.  Remembering why you were even walking into the kitchen in the first place, before you went and slammed your toe into the island making it throb with pain, sidetracking your already distracted mind, but seriously, why were you even walking into the kitchen?  What were we talking about?

So if everything else in life is more difficult on cold medicine (with the exception of passing out on the couch at 8pm while watching Stranger Things), why would it be a good idea to ride long distances on it?  Well, it's not, but again, this is advice for people who don't have a different option.  This advice is for the type of person who has places to be and specific times to be there.  The type of person that can't rent a car to make up for lost time.  The type of person that will not take 'NO' for an answer.  All that said, you really should take some time off and rest.

In any case, here are some ideas for you sickies out there that can't waste a day on treating yourself well:

• Avoid Drowsy Warnings - If an OTC has a drowsy warning, that is not the medicine for you.  Only daytime versions while riding.  Never ever ever ever take NyQuil and ride.  You'll die.
  
  Note: If you're on a prescription with drowsy warnings, you need to take some time off from riding.  Your doctor put you on an Rx for a reason.  Listen to them.


• Keep OTC Dosages Low - Take the minimum recommended dosage and put as much time between dosages as you can.  This should help keep the fog level down.  You could even try cutting the dose in half.  You don't need to feel perfect, just good enough to ride.
  
  Note: This only applies to OTC.  Always follow your doctor's exact instructions for prescription drugs.  Also, always finish your antibiotic script so you don't create superbacteria within your body.  Those things will eat your flesh.


• Easy Does It - Don't try to maintain a killer pace.  Your body needs some of that energy to fight off disease.  You're going to lose mileage per day while sick, and there's nothing you can do about it except make it up once you're healthy.


• Shorten Your Day - Cut a third (or more) off of your day (if you can).  As with the above tip, you can add the lost miles to your healthy days.


• Nap - If shortening the day isn't possible, wake up early in the morning, get a good morning ride in, and then take a midday nap.  Just find a nice patch of grass, lock your bike to a post (or your own leg with a cable), and lay down.  A solid two hours after lunch should get you primed to finish your day.


• Stay Alert - It may be necessary to offset your cold medicine with some caffeine.  That's probably not the most medically sound advice, but it's more sound than being run over by a car.  Use your best judgment with this.


• Listen to Your Body - I get that all of this advice is telling you to ignore your body, but again, life isn't binary.  If you are riding and you realize that what you are doing just isn't safe (can't concentrate, can't stay awake, dying), get the hell off your bike.  Days can always be made up one way or the other (hitchhike, rental, etc).  It's not worth putting your life at risk just to save some time and/or money.

Finally, please remember that I am not a doctor and that some of my advice may not be good advice.  These are just some (hopefully) helpful tips for the people that are going to ride while sick, regardless of how many times they're told that they shouldn't.  If you have any other thoughts, please leave a comment below.  And please remember that the best way to get someone to take your advice is to offer it kindly.  If you have advice, suggestion, or admonitions, just state them clearly and with as little condescension as possible, and people will probably listen to you.  Even if you have the best advice in the world, if you come off as a pompous ass, no one is going to care what you say.  Unless you're funny.  Then you can say pretty much anything you want.

Denis Leary - NyQuil

Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park has BLM Camping

After the fun, distracted, exploratory hike in Buckskin, I set my sights back on The Wave.  Protected from the rain, I hopped back on the highway, heading westbound towards Kanab.  I was going to need to camp closer to the BLM/Visitor's Center so I could try a second time for a North Coyote Buttes permit.  My hope was that this crappy weather would potentially scare off some of the more casual visitors.  I don't know why I would think that.  If anyone drove all the way to Kanab on vacation, I really doubt a little rain was going to scare them off.  But maybe rabid coyotes would...  I am going to have to start that rumor to keep the lottery numbers down.  I can just start here.  Did you hear about all the rabid coyotes in and around North Coyote Buttes?  There've been so many attacks that people have started calling it "North Coyote Bites."

The non-Lebowski Ranger back in Kanab had told me there was BLM camping up near Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park, which was twice as close to the permit lottery as any of the campsites near Buckskin Gulch.  Also, since it was BLM camping, it would also be free.  Well, BLM is usually free, so I assumed it would be free.

It rained off and on the whole way back to Kanab and had mostly stopped by the time I turned off of US-89 and onto Hancock Rd.  Once off the highway, I followed winding Hancock for miles through rocky, sandy desert with scattered trees and shrubs, some areas greener than others.  I kept an eye peeled for turn-offs and side roads for potential camping, but everything looked like it was intended for off-road vehicles and quads, not two-wheel drive pickups lugging a trailer behind it.

Eventually I came upon a promising turnout.  It was a roadside clearing with some scattered trees and tire tracks running over pink dirt.  Clearly people had camped here, so I pulled off the paved road and took the truck onto the firm, pink dirt.  After getting up a slight upgrade, I found a series of "roads" that headed off into the desert.  I chose the one closest to the road since it looped back to the pavement in another 50'.  Backing up with a trailer is a pain in the ass, so being able to pull through was ideal.  Perfect.

As I started to head up the slight hill, though, I noticed traction start to give way.  This was the moment I realized that the pink dirt I was driving on wasn't pink dirt.  It was pink sand.  I was on a pink sand dune.  A coral pink sand dune.  An appropriately named coral pink sand dune that had been rained on for quite some time, and I was not going to be able to go any further forward without risking getting stuck.  Especially not without four-wheel drive.  So I decided to back out of the spot while I still had a chance.  I was only 15'-20' from the road, easy enough to back out onto.  Except I was already deep in sand.  The truck wouldn't move in either direction, with wheels spinning and spraying sand.  I was stuck in the middle of nowhere with no cell reception and miles between me and the State Park that may be able to pull my dumb ass out of the clearly labeled pink sand.

Driving that truck from Mississippi, I had a few worries.  Getting stuck was probably #3 on the list, behind (#1) being blown over but gusting crosswinds on the highway and (#2) the trailer getting disconnected and wrecking on the side of the road.  At least the other two hadn't happened.  They seemed a lot worse.  This was mostly just embarrassing.

Not giving up just quite yet, I still had a trick up my sleeve.  Anyone that's lived in the Northeast through the winter should know exactly what to do in the situation I found myself in.  Mushy sand, mushy snow, same thing.  You gotta rock that car, baby!  Gas, release, gas, release, gas, release... until I magically got out of my rear rut and was able to back out onto the road.  That had been a close one.  I wasn't going to make that same mistake twice.  Or was I???

I kept heading towards the Sand Dunes, and within a mile or so came upon a wide open turnout that looked to have a few camping spots around it.  Most importantly, it was full of hard packed, light colored dirt, not loose, pink, sand.  On top of that, it was so big I could make a full u-turn.  I pulled in, parked, hopped out, and took a quick survey of my surroundings.  There was a makeshift fire pit about 20' away, a lot of dried out juniper and pine, and no other campers.  It was perfect.

The first thing I needed to take care of was food.  I set up my little stove next to the truck and started making noodles. When I looked up, this was what I saw:

The cuisine was average at best, but the atmosphere was divine.  Review: ★★★★

This was clearly where I was meant to be camping.  Also, now I was pretty happy to have had that rain.  Even more happy to not be stuck in the side of a dune.

That night I collected some loose firewood, lit a fire, and tried my best to stay up for the Perseid Meteor Shower.  I fell asleep at the fire well before the shooting stars began (but well after the coyotes had started).  I only saw two or three, one of which was a monster on the horizon, but that's pretty normal.  I blamed my sleepiness on waking up early for the permit.  Stupid North Coyote Buttes.

I ended up spending the following evening in the exact same camp site, this time with a bigger fire, as I found a giant field of clear-cut pine across the road about a quarter of a mile away.  When I arrived the second day, I found out why the space needed to be so wide open, as a trailer was parked off to the west of me.  It had been full of quads that were now out tearing up the dunes.  Oh right, the dunes.  Here, this is what they look like:

Dunes with Trees.  Weird.

Pamper Camper: Community Acupuncture

After beating yourself up on the road day after day, there's no reason to not pamper yourself a bit.  In any decent sized town, one can easily find massages (Chinatown), saunas, and/or hot tubs (hotels or gyms with free-trials).  Each of those is a great way to thank your muscles for all the hard work they do, as well as get them ready for the next few hundred miles.  That said, there is another affordable, effective, and readily available option out there for relaxation and recuperation: Acupuncture.

Most people have not had acupuncture.  For many, the thought of having needles shoved into their skin is just too painful, unnerving, or uncomfortable.  For others, it's too new-agey/hippie for their Western sensibilities.  For the rest, though, it's too expensive to try, sometimes costing over $100 for a treatment.  If you are in the first group, I assure you that the needles do not hurt, as they're extremely thin and are not put very far into the skin.  If you're in the second group, you're probably a lost cause.  Your stubbornness, which is likely rooted in fear of the unknown, is only going to make you miss out on positive experiences in life.  If you're in the last group, then at $15 per session, Community Acupuncture (CA) is exactly what you've been waiting for.

Photo Courtesy of West Philly Community Acupunture

You're probably thinking two things now: 1) What is Community Acupuncture, and 2) Why is it so cheap?  CA is a type of acupuncture that's done in a open, group setting, rather than in private rooms.  Since it requires less space to treat more people, costs are considerably lower, which means they can afford to offer sliding scale pricing based on what you feel you can pay ($15-$50).  Boom.  Asked, answered.

Now you're probably wondering about the "group" aspect of CA centers.  Are you imagining a bunch of naked people laying on rows of tables in a warehouse?  Like an upside down morgue?  Stop thinking that.  That's gross.  No, there are a couple ways the CA could be set up, but none of them involve group nudity (that I know of).  The center I go to is West Philly Community Acupuncture, so I'll use them as an example in the style of a guided meditation:

You're riding your bicycle in West Philly, careful to not ride into the tracks of the 11 Trolley.  When you reach 4636 Woodland Ave, adjacent to the Four Worlds Bakery, you lock your bike to the nearest sign post.  Mmm... that bread smells good, but do you know what you want even more than a fresh loaf of sourdough?  Acupuncture.  Bypassing a glutenous destiny, you open the front door to West Philly Community Acupuncture and are met with a friendly greeting.  Yes, you would like a treatment.  Yes, it is your first time.  No, you're not gluten intolerant, you just didn't have time to stop.  Yes, $15 seems reasonable.  You pay.  After filling out your first-timer paperwork, Sarah asks you what you would like to treat today.  You had read their FAQ earlier in the meditation, and tell her that you have sore muscles from riding your bicycle.  She says she can help with that.  You take off your shoes and follow her to the treatment room.  As the door opens, you're met with warm air and gentle hum of white noise machines.  Throughout the room are recliners in the reclined position with bodies reclining in those comfortably upholstered cradles.  Everyone's eyes are closed, either sound asleep or deep in meditation.  Sarah takes you to a vacant chair and you sit down.  She pulls the lever on the right side of the chair.  You are now one of the reclining bodies.  She begins placing needles in various parts of your body.  Your hands, your arms, your legs, your ears, the top of your head, and finally, one between your eyebrows/middle of your unibrow.  You didn't feel any pain as they went in, but that last one tingled a little and you can still feel it.  Stop focusing on it.  Think about something else, like pickles.  Why do they even make bread and butter pickles?  Who eats them.  Wait, why are you thinking about pickles?  You can't remember.  Good.  Sarah asks if you would like a blanket.  Of course you would.  Who wouldn't want a blanket.  She lays one on your legs and one on your upper body.  She really meant blankets when she said blanket.  Sarah leaves you to go check on one of the other bodies.  You look at the clock.  3pm.  You close your eyes for a moment and look back at the clock.  3:05pm.  How did that happen?  You close your eyes again.  3:15pm.  Time is warping.  Your mind melts into your body and your body melts into the recliner.  You are one with the recliner.  The recliner is one with the universe.  It is 3:30pm.  Your muscles are no longer sore, but only because you no longer have muscles.  Your muscles have been reduced from fibers to cells to atoms.  Atoms are mostly empty space.  You are empty space.  It is 3:45pm.  Pain cannot exist in empty space.  Nothing can exist in empty space.  But you exist in and as empty space.  It is 4:00pm.  Bodies are missing.  People have left.  Chairs are empty.  Your new neighbor looks to be asleep.  Maybe they are dissolving into the upholstered nothingness that is the universe.  You open your eyes wide and suddenly wake up.  You wiggle your fingers, then rotate your wrists.  Your atoms have recombined and as they had done so, they made slight changes in your configuration.  Your muscles are no longer sore.  The sore atoms are elsewhere in the universe, replaced by willing and able atoms.  They are ready to ride a bicycle.  You are ready to ride your bicycle.  Sarah walks into the room.  You make eye contact.  There is no talking, only eye contact.  She removes your needles and tells you to take your time.  You do.  Your brain atoms are still reconfiguring.  You take off your blanket and walk out of the treatment room.  You drink a cup of water and say goodbye.  There is talking in this room, but only at a reasonable volume.  Your bicycle is still locked outside.  The bakery is closed.  You decide to get a Banh Mi at Fu Wah instead.  You've chosen well.

Wasn't that great???  Don't you feel revitalized?  Like your mind and body have been reset and you can conquer a Vietnamese hoagie?  I told you it would be wonderful, and have I ever let you down.  There was no question mark at the end of that last sentence because there was no doubt in either of our minds.

Ok, just a little bit more about the CA.  Each center is individually owned, but they are all a part of the People's Organization for Community Acupuncture (POCA).  As such, they must adhere to certain POCA guidelines, which ensures that they must maintain certain standards.  If they don't, POCA will look into any problems/complaints and make sure they're resolved.  This also keeps the price down, as POCA sets the sliding-scale fee limits.  This also means that POCA can keep track of which centers are where and make a handy map for tracking them down throughout the United States.  There are so many (provided you don't live in an armpit of a state)!

Anyway, if you find yourself worn down in a city that has a CA center, do yourself a favor and stop in for a treatment.  Even if it doesn't magically fix your broken-down wreck of a body, it will at least make you feel really good for a few more miles.  Sometimes that's the best we can hope for.

Riding Music: Spiderman of the Rings (Dan Deacon)

It occurred to me that I don't give nearly enough credit to musicians for helping me out on tour.  Between brutal climbs and monotonous farm flats, music helps keep my mind occupied when it needs distraction most.  I'm mostly a podcast guy on tour (safer since they allow outside noise in past my headphones), but there are times that the savage beast needs to be soothed.  So before I head out on tour, I make sure my music library is stocked with some music for when I need it most.  That said, here's one my usual picks:

Dan Deacon - Spiderman of the Rings (2007)

http://carparkrecords.com/

Spiderman is transitional Deacon, residing somewhere between the completely absurdist cassettes and the more traditional (relative term) Bromst.  It is frenetic, ridiculous, and spectacular, and packs enough energy to push the most exhausted butt up a climb.  It's also complex and nuanced enough that if you're able to zone out and fall completely into the album, you'll catch bits and pieces of patchwork sounds you'd never noticed, even after dozens of listens.  If you've never given Deacon a listen, here's a good start:

The intro to "Snake Mistakes" was the ringtone on my phone for a while.  

It was not a popular ringtone among my co-workers.

Spiderman has a few things going for it that make it ideal for my rides, the biggest being crescendos and absurdity.  The first one, crescendos, are what pack the punch for getting me through the worst parts of a ride.  My favorite track on the album, "Jimmy Joe Roche", is a constant interweaving of rises and falls that lead to an auditory tidal wave crashing down and drowning out any outside thoughts, good or bad.  Almost a forced meditation by yelling louder than any voices bouncing around in my skull.  Maybe it's not a tidal wave.  Maybe each build up adds light to a ball of energy glowing in my chest, and the final climax ignites an internal explosion that breaks down ATP bonds and blows away lactic acid.  Yeah, it's one of those two.  In either case, it works.  Just listen for yourself:

Not many better riding songs.

Then there's absurdity.  Absurdity should be something we all embrace every day.  We are all absurd people, each living absurd lives, but instead of embracing the fact that life is ridiculous, we try our hardest to normalize and fit in.  There is freedom in absurdity, in admitting that the things we do don't make that much sense.  That life itself doesn't make that much sense.  Why does it make sense to dress intentionally ugly to attract a mate?  Why does it make sense to spend $3 on a coffee that cost $.20 per cup, and then tip an extra dollar for that barista to buy more ugly clothing to attract a potential mate?  Why does it make sense to trade the 40 best hours of the week (at a minimum) to someone much wealthier than us in exchange for money to buy overpriced coffee that we need to make up for the lack of sleep we get because we've sold over a third of each day to the highest bidder?  It's completely ridiculous, but we think it's normal.

For that reason, you need Spiderman of the Rings.  Life doesn't make much sense, but we still try to make up a story to fit all the disjointed pieces of reality together, ignoring the fact that the end result is just a shitty Mad Lib.  Instead of forcing incongruous pieces of sound together in a way that sounds the most "normal", Deacon puts them together the way he wants to hear them.  He's willing to follow his ear's heart and making something that sounds beautifully and absurdly honest.  And that really strikes a chord with me on tour.  There is nothing "normal" about riding bicycle through the middle of the Smoky Mountains in the middle of the night, but goddamn does it feel good.  If feeling good isn't normal, then I'll take absurd.

Philly Pedals Repost: Oh, snap! I broke it!

Note: This post was originally written for PhillyPedals.com and can be found here.

Hey Pedalers, Troy Mustache here.  While riding up from the Royal Tavern to “Live Band Karaoke” at Fergie’s the other night, I had a near disaster.  I’d just turned left onto Catherine St. when all of a sudden my right foot slammed into the ground, my butt hopped out of the saddle, and I lurched forward into my handlebars.  As confused as I was about what had just happened, I had the wherewithal to grab onto my left brake lever and run my bike to a stop.  Once I came to a stop, I looked down and saw this:

Whaaaat???  Holy moly!  That was a new one for me.  I have broken many parts on my bike, but I’d never ripped a crank arm in half before.  I can only assume it was the fault of my piston-like thighs, and not the 10,000+ miles of abuse slowly wearing down a hollow crank arm.

Anyway, that crank got me thinking about all the different things I’ve broken on a bike over the years (chains, frames, rims, and more), and it made me curious about the stories you might have about your own bicycle breakdowns.  Have you ever broken your bike in a way you didn’t think was possible?  Ever have a near disaster where you were able to save yourself but not your bike?  How about a break down in the middle of nowhere that resulted in you hitchhiking to a bike shop in the back of a chicken truck?

In any case, throw some comments down at the bottom if you have any stories about bonkers breakdowns.  Go ahead and give 'em to me.

Hippie Review: Thai Crystal Deodorant

Before getting started, I just wanted to say that if I were you, I would be skeptical too.  Even knowing me, as I am myself, I am still a bit skeptical of what I'm about to write.  But Thai Crystal hippie deodorant actually works.  I've been wearing it a few months now, and I even took it on tour with me over the summer.  To be completely honest, and I was pleasantly surprised by the results.

Stop judging me.

I stopped wearing deodorant a few months ago.  May or June, I can't remember which.  In any case, as an Old Spice lifer, it was a big move.  I started with regular, grandfather scent back in the 90's, moved onto High Endurance when it was first released, and had my body odor firmly banished by Red Zone in the mid 2000's.  Swagger, Denali, Showtime... I've used and loved them all.  Sure, I've tried some other deodorants along the way, most notably gel deodorant in its early days, which required a five minute dry time, but I always ended up back at Old Spice.  And over the years I'd received many a compliment for my armpit cologne, even in some of the sweatiest times.  Old Spice had never let me down.

But during all that time, I was hiding a secret.  A secret that I didn't dare expose to the world.  A secret that I'm finally strong enough to share now that I'm out of that abusive deodorant relationship.  My armpits... were irritated.  My armpits were always red and irritated, which having been that way since I first used deodorant, I assumed that was just how deodorant works.  It just figured it was a trade-off we all made.  Pleasant armpit odor in exchange for unpleasant armpit discomfort. 

And then my upstairs neighbor got on Team Thai Crystal, vouched for it, and recommended it to me.  Credit where due, I did not venture out into the new age wilds on my own.  I quit Old Spice cold turkey, and since kicking the habit, I couldn't be happier.  After a few days, my armpits were completely free of all irritation, and I'm never going back.  You probably have questions, so here goes:

• What is it?  It's a stick of mineral salts.  That is literally all the label says it is, mineral salts.  
• How does it work?  I have no idea.  All I know is the salts kill the desire to make stink.
• How do I use it?  Get it wet, rub it on, let your pits dry for a ten seconds or so.
• Does it have an odor of its own?  No, it does not.
• Will it kill existing odor?  No, was your pits with soap and water (or a baby wipe) before rubbing it on.
• Does it prevent sweating?  No, you'll still sweat the same, which is probably good for your poor clogged pores.
• Does it only work on armpits?  No, it apparently also works on feet.  So says the label.
• How much does it cost?  I think I paid about $7 at the local co-op
• How long does it last?  I'm at most halfway through my stick after 8 months, even with improper use.  Always wipe it dry with a towel after you use it to make it last longer.  Also, it comes in a durable plastic container that's easy to take on the road.
• Is it hypoallergenic?  Yes.
• Will it stain clothing?  No.
• Are you being paid to promote this?  Why?  Are you offering?

Anyway, I took it on tour and it did a great job of keeping me presentable, even while riding in sweltering Southern heat.  It didn't keep me odor free (I got stanky by the end of a long day), but no deodorants do that (I always get stanky by the end of a long day).  It kept me stink free for a long time, but the only way to really stay stink free is to wear antimicrobial clothing.  Even if the stink-causing bacteria can't make their stink in your pits, they'll still be able to make it in your clothes.  If you're a clean person that washes their armpits every day, then this should work for you.  You can't just slap on a new coat in the morning and expect it to fix everything.

On a side note, I just want to bring up something a friend of mine was telling me about a few months back.  Mostly, standard deodorants just mask your scent with a strong scent of their own.  Masking your own scent rather than just slowing down its amplification can be a real problem, and can even lead to divorce.  Read that article, it will give you second thoughts before you slather yourself in Axe body spray.

In closing, I give Thai Crystal Deodorant two thumbs up.