It's New, Better Get It Dirty...

  I can't recall the last time I was so excited to see a cardboard box; there it lay, cockeyed against the steps of my front door, my new race frame!  The cargo of this box is what drives me to eat my veggies, finish my work ahead of time, and get out of bed early on the weekends.  So, to finally receive this hotly awaited package was a moment of jubilation in my day - to say the least.  I cancelled my plans for the rest of the day and set up shop in the garage with my myriad of tools and assorted parts that needed to be mounted up.  A few mods later, and one trip down to the LBS and I was out and pedaling around the driveway!
  I would have driven down to the local spot the moment the last bolt was tightened, but a massive thunderstorm rolled through and let loose nearly 2 inches of rain out of the sky.  I would have been remiss if I hadn't at least put the tires to some dirt, so I endured getting solidly soaked for the sake of some cutties on the front lawn - no deluge will stop me from giving my new steed the requisite post-build parking lot test!  With the formalities addressed, I racked the new rig, and took my soggy self inside to think about all the sweet lines I was going to savage on this vessel of raditude.

Where the magic happens...

  Fast-forward 18 hours and we're pedaling to the trail head, in massive humidity, no water, and zero fucks given - it's Thursday, and the boys and I want to get in some quick evening laps, and I have a new bike to shake down!  After the brief ascent to the inaugural track for DH'er, and the place I'm here to put a hurt on, I make sure to click on Strava, because I'm pretty sure a ride doesn't count unless it's being timed and KOMs are at stake...but I digress:  I flew.  The ground couldn't keep up with me.  The run felt effortless in spite of my best efforts to dive into the apex several times, instead of through it, and generally being a hooligan too excited to really focus on the task at hand.
  At the end of the brief session in the woods with the homies, my conclusion about my new investment was thus:  two thumbs up; gold star; top marks.  As I get more saddle time in, we shall see how the full-susser susses out on a whole, but in the mean time, I am going to revel in the sweet drift I held, the off-line encounter with some rocks, and the general excellent functioning of the well-designed metal I will be straddling at a race near you.  Author's note:  it wheelies like nobody's business.  This is the hallmark of a great bike and literally the only thing I grade bikes on.  A bike that wheelies well is a sure sign of a bike you ought to own as well. 

Bro or Pro?

  The much quested for and highly coveted "Bro Deal" is what makes this sport go 'round.  Anyone who is worth their salt on facebook or instagram, and can toss a half-hearted whip off a trail undulation is rocking the semi-sponsored affirmation of their skills via a hearty discount on all things "bike".  I'll be honest, I've tapped the Bro Deal tree to reap the benefits of rad equipment at a considerable mark down, and I am pleased with that, as I couldn't afford the cost otherwise.  However, there is comes a time when one has to decide whether or not the deal is in ones favor.  What do I mean?  Just because you pay for stuff, doesn't mean you're not Pro.  So, w

No Bro Deals in this picture.

hat I'm asking is:  what's the ROI of this relationship?  Sure, discounted goods are much appreciated, but you are providing all sorts of free marketing and PR work for your bro, on your time, at the your own cost.  Sure, it feels nice to be a part of something you believe in, and if you are sporting a brand with killer branding, then you by proxy seem pretty badass too.  But again, is this worth it?
  I say, unless you are a weekend warrior or someone who has the ability to pay for things without triple-checking your bank account, then you are probably in the chump boat.  You are deemed worthy enough by your bro to represent his brand, and do it well enough that he (or she, but this is the bike world and "she" isn't as common) is willing to not make full-margin on Product X because he knows that his investment will pay back immeasurably thanks to your stoke-factor on Product X.  You will go ejaculate all over any available social media surfaces you can log into or any quasi-relevant forum thread that decides to not kick you off based on your borderline obsessive need to espouse praise, opinions, and your feelings about Product X...at no cost to your bro, and he is fired up about that because broad-stroke advertising on that kind of level is fucking expensive.

  Now, I know as well as anyone that without the bro deal, many of us would not have been able to make our way into this sport, especially us racers who always seem to be in the red.  Being bros is cool, but being appreciated and recognized for your work ethic, dedication, and sweat equity is wayyyy more legitimate (and cooler).  High fives and hell yeahs might help with your self-esteem, but establishing meaningful and professional relationships in the industry is a much more effective way of step-stoning your way up and onto bigger things (if that's your M.O.).  While you may feel like you get preferential treatment, just measure your "Bro Worth" with this simple comparison: do you get the same stock stickers with your purchases, or do you get nifty custom bits with a personal touch? 

They Didn't Give Me A Tracking Number

I've been checking my front door obsessively everyday for the past two days.  I hate waiting in general, but sweet bbq sauce do I get impatient waiting for a package to arrive.  This particular package is of great importance and has been a constant source of excited hand motions for the past week.  It's been causing serious strain and anxiety as my adrenaline soaked brain waits for the UPS man to show up and present me with my new steed.  It's new bike time!  And that is the best time, only rivaled by food time and bed time. 
The selection precess that I underwent was vigorous and arduous.  I'm not good with numbers, and that's all I had to go on when making this difficult choice.  What to get, what to get?  The options were nearly overwhelming, what with different suspension layouts, availability, price, fit...ugh, it was like trying on a prom dress, I mean shoes...fivetens...whatever.  I spent hours pouring over charts, reviews, pictures, all seemingly to no avail.  Frustrated, I wracked my brain, searching for options I hadn't considered or pursued - and then it clicked, and then I clicked, over to the webpage of the manufacturer I had been neglecting to remember; winner winner chicken dinner.  And just that, I'd found the one.
After that, the stress of finding a suitable piece of engineering turned into the waiting game - my least favorite of games.  And now I sit here, still waiting.  I would have come totally unhinged at this point if it weren't for a couple other key components I am also waiting to have delivered.  There is no point to this tale, no moral, no lesson learned.  I am just trying to find a constructive way to pass the time, while I continue to wait...

I also purchased new camo crocs. I had to ask the sales clerk to check out back and see if they had them in stock. No regrets.