The snow had stopped falling about an hour ago, the sun dipped below the horizon about two. The temperature when I woke up was a balmy 50 degrees, now it had plummeted a full 35 degrees to a mere 15. Now, it feels cold. In less than a month, fifteen will be welcome.

Clouds still hung over town, reflecting the orange glow characteristic of sodium vapor lights. They continued at a stately pace towards the east with a barely perceptible breeze enough to just notice your hair being brushed. Over the Bridger Mountains, over the Bangtails, over the Crazies, each time depositing a bit more snow on the western foothills and slopes.

I stood on the sidewalk in amazement at this sight. Streetlights reflected off the thin layer of ice on the road, buffed to a sheen by passing cars. Two inches of fairly light snow on top, enough to easily slice through with my 35mm tires but just dense enough to drift through turns if I wanted to. I was headed home from a friend's place, and it was a quick North then East route to get home, not even a mile. I wouldn't even be warm by the time I arrived.

I headed West instead. The side streets, silent with most people staying in this first real winter night, were blissful. My studded tires made a subtle sound on the smoother ice, much like a zipper. The rare slushy areas at intersections posed no problem either with my full fenders and ample Surly mudflap. Fixed gear for freedom in this season- freedom from skipping chains, slipping freewheels, frozen derailleurs, icy brakes.

Turning on to Main street I let the front get a bit loose and deftly brought the bike back to a state of dynamic stability by giving the back a wiggle- now there's two wheels drifting...nice. Stopped at a light, a Suburban pulls up. The driver is safe and warm in his steel and plastic cocoon. I am safe with the control my bicycle provides and warm from the joy that only comes from physical exertion. The light turns green, I easily get the holeshot. I ride the wave of green lights for five blocks, the Suburban falls behind a bit more with every light. Finally I turn off and head out to the industrial part of town. The familiar orange glow is more visible now and clearly delineates the clouds. An occasional streak of red and white light signals a car on the interstate. I cross the tracks and take a quick left onto the spur trail towards the old mill. A mile of powder and even more solitude is my reward. Over the bridge and back on the dirt road to head back into town, I'm riding faster and quieter than I ever have here without the dry gravel slowing me down.

It's another lap down main street, then catching and passing an Audi driver. I've got a few more side streets to ride before I get home, but by now I'm getting the feel of the tires when I'm cornering, leaning a bit more, taking the turns a bit faster. I roll in my driveway and brush the cold powder off my legs before walking in to my place.

Winter provides some of the best cycling opportunities. You just have to see them.

-DNA

Note to self: When dressed as a middle-aged Jewish woman, maybe wait a little longer before going to where the alleycat ends. Especially if its early evening and the pizza place is filled with families.

Anyway, lawng story short, our Halloween alleycat went well and was a great time. 20ish people showed up (and not all guys this time!) to do battle with the course, made more difficult with the formidable wind. And about that second manifest? Not sorry. I'm not sorry about the climb above the dump either. I though you would've appreciated a nice vantage point with which to see the sunset.

The fastest riders took about two hours to complete the course, with the final stragglers rolling in something like 30-40 minutes later (I had no watch, so sue me). Steve finished first for the guys and Holly beat out the rest of the women. Most everybody put some good thought and time into their costumes. I won't comment any more on them, just see for yourself.

After beer and pizza at Columbo's most of us rode down to 317 for some trackstand competition (winner: Andrew) and more beer. And more befuddled looks and asinine comments. I wouldn't expect the regular Saturday night 317 crowd to get it.



Thanks to everyone who raced- these things only get more fun with more people.
And Very Special thanks to tart and Stan at Native Optics for the prizes. Well, they were intended for the Velorution Party and Saddle Royale punk bike enduro, but the snow kept the intended recipients away.

See you next time...we do something. There's ideas flying around.
OH- and Andrew's putting on a thing at Bogert (I think) Saturday the 1st (I think) at 7(?). You might want to check those details.

Casey's pics.

-DNA

Would you like to play a game? At Powell's Geek (technical) book store.

One more place to check out tomorrow before leaving. The vintage computer selection at Powell's Technical Bookstore. Chock ful-o-geek right here.

This is what you're missing. Pure 80's indulgence. With sequins. Radical. Absoluteley.

Staring a computer screen all day does two things. What things you ask? Well, it makes me fat(ter), and it makes me stir crazy. How fat you ask? Real fat.

Update: By 'Staring a' I of course meant 'Staring at a'. Now you see how effing nuts staring at a computer makes me. I loose all skill with grammar and/or spelling.

Here's a link to sEtOH's pics of the Clunker Downhill. I didn't even ride and I had a good time. Imagine what you missed...

C

Ok, so there's a pretty heated discussion going on over at New West about an article regarding some off-trail protesting of a mountain bike ride. John, Greg, and a few others from MMBA were the subjects of said protest. Anyway, read John's post on the Trail Report and the article at New West.
Then the fun starts. They provided a picture of the three of them protesting. In the spirit of FARK's very irreverent Photoshop contests, I'm going to do something similar. Get the original picture here, do with it what you will to, uh, 'improve' it (nothing obscene, keep it rated R-ish), and send it to me at bozeman.bike@gmail.com. I'll resize and post them, then we'll vote for the winner. Winner gets a pair of Native Triumph sunglasses (ret. value $100), Courtesy of Stan with Native (I know, you said use 'em for an alleycat. I thought this would be fun).
If you don't have Photoshop and can't afford it (or don't want to steal it) you can get GIMP for free here. I've been using it for a couple of years now and I'm a fan.

Okay? GO! The contest ends Sunday. This Sunday. Get them mouses working!

p.s. if the image gets pulled I saved it on my compy. No worries.

-DNA

Old bikes, cruisers, anything but modern mountain bikes. This Sunday afternoon, probably Moser in Hyalite.
A few of us are going to get together for a nice Mt. Tam style clunker downhill. We'll shuttle via truck and send someone down first with a walkie-talkie to make sure the path is clear. Then we'll drink some cheap beer. So get your ratty old jeans and flannel (unless it's hot) and an old cruiser and stay tuned for the details. Nothing competitive, no prizes- just fun.


-DNA

Here at The Bozeman Fix, we are not only bike nerds, but plain old nerds in general.
(Disclaimer: I am writing this on Sunday Morning, kind of recovering from drinking Schlitz and PBR with C-Note last night. My syntax skillz are still asleep.)

Anyway, if your life is monotonous and you need something else on the internets to distract you, I've started a Twitter stream and it gets repeated over there --->
Or go to twitter.com/ChunkStyle.

-DNA (aka ChunkStyle)