Big Bikes

The Big Kahuna: Part Two
The Ride

A thousand pictures are worth a million words.

This is a horrible age. When you think of something which you think is immensely clever (like the above quote for instance) you know if you Google it you will not only find that it has already been said or written, it has been copyrighted and printed on T-Shirts and bumper stickers. I almost restrained myself from Googling as I was writing this, but I couldn't help myself, and yes, it's been said. Of course.

Of course it didn't take the many other authors three minutes to do the math.

I was the kid who thought he invented "Shh...it went out the window". A million other children invented that joke simultaneously and a billion children had uttered it thirty billion times in the past. It does feel good to think you had an original thought, if even for just a moment.

The idea here is that I'm going to let the Pictures lead me through the muddled story of 2008 Big Kahuna.

That's Mike, The Big Kahuna himself above. Who put this thing together? Him, that's who.

At each trail juncture we would do a 104 person head count. We wouldn' roll until everyone was accounted for. You should totally come on this ride next year!

Will was one of three guys (out of 104 riders, yes 104) on a single speed. Here he rips a Snowboarder like move, sliding his rear wheel along this rock. It was sick. Unintentional, but sick.

Early in the ride I was railing down a fire road through an S-Turn. I was in a full two wheel slide. There was a sharp, inch and a half in diameter branch jutting out in to the trail. I realized too late that I was on a collision course with the punji stick. Somehow it passed through my main triangle, connecting with my outside leg. The bike did a 180, I flipped several times, rolling backwards down the trail. Andy said it was one of the loudest crashes he'd ever heard. What he thought was my helmet smacking the earth was actually the stick snapping.

My arm was a little jacked up, my leg was throbbing, there was a hole in my leg warmer, entry and exit wound, like a bullet hole. The possibility that I had severely gored my leg was expressed. I didn't really want to find out. I was having flashbacks to Miriam's accident which resulted in hospitalization and Gangrene. Turned out the stick had glanced off the bone. I'm pretty sure that if it had hit the fleshy bits to the north or south of my knee it would have impaled me nicely. Oh, how lucky I am.

This guy went down hard. His vintage K2 Zed with Girvin Fork not the ideal set up for these woods. Not that a rigid 29er was much better. I did have 2.55 WTB Weirwolf on though. The steep rock drops would catch up with me more than once. The "Man my fork just saved my ass" feeling was replaced by the "Man that rigid fork just handed me my ass" feeling.

Bald rock ups and downs, tyical of Massachusetts North Shore riding.

Never did catch this guy's name, he was in and out of our group all day. Real good rider. Nice dude.

"Bruce Banner! BRUCE BANNER!"

Jeff Busting a sweet groin stretch.

"Yeah I won the Vermont 50 fruit boots. You got a problem with that? Seriously, if you don't stop pointing that thing at me I am going to staple your ass to your face".

"Yes, but can you distinguish my ass from my face? Ha! Um, I guess it doesn't matter since one is getting stapled to the other in this equation regardless".

This is an actual photograph of me the morning of the Kahuna. Puffy Daddy.

Glen asks this rock if they've met before. We were lost. Being lost on a Kahuna or any good epic ride is mandatory.

Wait, look for the line, see the guy in front take the wrong line, then find a worse way to do it yourself.

I bowed out of this one. Brad showed me it could be done on a rigid 29er. If you didn't mind riding a nose wheelie out of it for ten feet. He is the man.

After the guy on the Zed ate it on this move Darren showed the power of The Wraith, riding it with a rear flat.

This guy again. Hey guy...what's your name guy?

Glen Cook, his brother studies rocks, he kicks their freakin' asses.

Christopher Igleheart. One of the first guys I ever saw riding a single speed. It was rigid and he was riding these trails. Ripping.

Good thing that sign's there, this section is pretty dangerous. Jeff purposefully wanged his knee on each and every one of the guard rail supports. He is just that god damn tough.

Candy, Candy, Candy, I can't let you go...I decided at the first pit stop that I would fuel myself exclusively on candy for the day. The seven hour day. I'm full of good ideas. And sugar.

Bonks setting in. Stories already being told. People smiling so much their faces might get stuck that way.

In every photo I have ever taken of Andy he is smiling. I usually see him when bikes are involved. I don' think this is a coincidence.

Darren lost his breakfast early in the ride. He ate rock until he got his fill.

"I'll give you $100 bucks and take you out to Benihana's if you ride off that 75 ft. rock - give you 600 tries, be back next week. Laaaate."

Marc Bavineau. Cyclocross killer. He won the Killer B's 30-39 at Nats last year. He is no joke on the mountain bike either. It was good to run into him out there.

Sanidas cleaning one of the last tricky moves of the day. This about where we decided it was time to head for Lobstaland via the road.

Brad gets his Haddock. I got mine too. Jamming mine into a hot dog roll, calling it a "Haddock Dog". I'll leave it at Haddock Dog. How can you sum up a day like this? Ya can't.

Kahuna!