Gear for Rabid Cyclists

When someone asked me if my husband was an “avid cyclist” it only took me a moment to respond with, “No… He’s a RABID cyclist!” I don’t know about you but we are the kind of people that if we see something bicycle related we go a little goofy. Nothing excites us more than finding a onesy for our toddler that has bicycles on it. (Thank you again Grandma May!) So when we had all these ideas for cool designs that no one was making… well, -we are a proactive Tribe- if we can’t find the gear we want to buy, we’ll make it! And so we gave birth to yet another child: Gear for the Rabid Cyclist.

I (Dawn) sat down in front of the computer with sketchbook in hand and got to work. (You may remember a while back when I blogged about my creative process.)  The other day my husband asked me to do a cyclocross design (a future endeavor he hopes to tackle) so I had him sit down with me at the computer and together we did a few new designs that I wanted to share.

So here is a brief introduction to a some of our latest designs…

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“Cyclocross: Get Carried Away.”
Those familiar with this up-and-coming sport know that cyclocross is a mix of road racing, obstacle course running and a hell of a lot of carrying of bicycles. A few weeks back at one of the Sierra Nevada High School Race Series events we met a gorgeous woman in a MadCat shirt and we ended up talking. She talked about her family’s participation in cyclocross and “if you think these races (the high school mountain bike racing) are fun for the family you HAVE to go to a cyclocross race!” Her enthusiasm was infectious and ever since then we have had a blossoming interest in learning more about cyclocross. In fact she was so “carried away” with her praise of the sport that she inspired this design.

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“Blood or Mud?”
This one was pretty easy. It was inspired by my husband when he came home from riding one day and he had something red on his shin. From first glance we weren’t sure if it was blood or mud. I am always the one ready to pounce on any scrape with a cotton ball and peroxide but he shrugged off my question, unconcerned with an injury as long as it didn’t interfere with his riding. Rabid cyclist indeed.

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“Cyclocross: Ride Hard. Run Fast.”
This one we just completed. My husband envisioned the design of the chainring being used to make the “C” and the crank arms to make the cross or “X”. The motto, “Ride Hard. Run Fast.” Actually came about because the design was off-balance and I needed text to balance out the large “Cyclocross” on top. We ended up liking the motto so much that we added it as the motto for our website.

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“Find Your Balance”
Another design inspired by my husband and his cycling philosophy. Riding is not just a physical exercise to my husband; it is his therapy. When he rides, he finds peace and... balance. We have since met many others who say the same: that cycling centers and balances their lives, their emotions and how they see the world. Where else can your therapy give you great legs? (I also like to think of the design as encouragement to young kids just learning how to ride.)

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The GroveTribe Logo
Ever since marrying my husband and taking his last name I have been obsessed with “Tree of Life” designs. I wanted to incorporate the tree into our cycling logo. One of my top criteria was “If we ever got a tattoo of our logo, it has to look cool.”  Yeah, I know… but it helped me decide that I wanted the tree to be “tribal”, I like the look of tribal tattoos and it fit with our nickname of “GroveTribe”. Next was incorporating the cycling part of it. The chainring is the “root” of power for a pedal stroke so I thought it should be part of the logo as the roots of the tree. Both of our families also have “roots” in cycling.

Well, now you know how a few of our designs were born. If you like any of the designs and want to help a stay-at-home mom bring in some much needed income while showing the world that you are a rabid cyclist, please visit our shop and get geared up!

Sun Shines on Sierra Nevada Race Series

After weeks of cloud-filled skies the sun burst through to shine on the first ever Sierra Nevada High School Race Series event. The crisp morning air was filled with the sounds of excited racers and supporters preparing for the first race of the season. With hosting assistance from TBF the Sierra Nevada High School Cycling Organization enjoyed a spectacular and very well-attended race.

 

An emotional victory for one young racer.

The well-organized event was held on a short track course at the Granite Bay California State Recreation Area and included free food and swag bags for the racers, music, vendors and lots of cheering fans.  All the races went smoothly (relative term in a mountain bike race, after all) with the only notable occurrence was when one racer pushed themselves too hard and had to receive a bit of support from the rapidly responding medical staff. The rest of the excitement remained for the fast-paced efforts of young riders giving the crowd their all and working their hearts out for the team.

 

Young women not afraid of some sweat and dirt. 

Although the event lasted well over 7 hours it was all over too soon leaving everyone eagerly anticipating the next event: The Granite Bay Epic Cross Country held on February 5, 2011 in Granite Bay, CA. Hopefully, clear skies will once again prevail.

For a full gallery of this event complete with action shots, winners and the folks who help make it all happen please visit http://www.grovetribe.com/SierraNevadaGallery.html.

Dirty Secret

So I figure it is time for me (Dawn) to fess up. I have a dirty little secret... or rather, maybe not so dirty. I've loved cycling since I was strapped to the back of my dad's ten speed and we would go for day-long family rides. Between family picnic rides to my own (mis)adventures I almost always had a bike of some kind in my life. I loved the freedom. I loved the speed.

As soon as I had my first mini ten speed I learned how to ride it without hands. (I even had to learn how to turn corners as I would ride home several blocks with my hands full of my Taco Bell lunch and drink.) I've been hit by a car on my bike. I used to love sneaking into the local Catholic girls high school and ride my (heaven help me) ten speed up and down the stairs. (How the wheels stayed true through that I have no clue.) I've ridden from the Fabulous Forties in East Sacramento to West Sacramento and back in the dark on my bike. As a pre-teen I've experienced nasty road rash in the middle of a 103 degree Sacramento summer and had to ride home, alone, several miles. I grew up and used cycling to help recover from a bad episode of CFS. I've ridden to and from school and work on my bike. The point is, there is so much I have experienced on a bike but -here comes the dirty secret- I've never ridden off-road on a bike.

I guess I was a roadie before I even knew what a roadie was and I still am. After my Effie was stolen I mooched rides off of my husband's road bike and it has been a couple of years since I have had my own ride. (Honestly riding his bike was more torture than fun.) Then through an odd twist of fate I found myself in possession of a Specialized Rockhopper 29er. The story is a sad one with a silver lining but even though the bike was not intended for me; it fits and now it is mine.

So now I start a new chapter in my cycling life; an old lady trying to lose the pounds from her latest (and last!) pregnancy, just now learning to play in the dirt. It will be interesting to see how this goes. Please, try not to laugh as you pass me on the trails. I have the GroveTribe name to uphold.

The Good, The Bad and The Muddy: Folsom High Cycling

Angus painted up after Saturday's ride with FHS Cycling Team.

One of the things that has continued to impress me about the Folsom High Cycling Team is that many of the kids have great attitudes and work really hard.  Today was no different as I saw a number of kids - many faster than me- working their tails off powering through sand and mud, aggressively descending, and pushing their bodies to the limits. There is a lot to be proud of and it is great to see. They are definitely in the “Good” column of Folsom High Cycling.

Then there was the group that I was with today…  Meh, not so great. About three quarters of the way through a long loop a sub-group of kids stopped (the other group was far ahead).  I was running sweep so I stopped as well.  I mentioned to them that the rider leading the group was starting to get out of sight.  Nothing… They just stood there. When I tried to encourage them to get moving again they mentioned something about waiting for the fast group to come around again and joining them. None of them seemed in the least bit interested in getting back on their bikes and doing what they had come there to do: ride.

I had a tough dilemma before me:  the kids didn’t want to ride and I couldn’t leave them.  I decided to wait to see how long it would take for them to get going again.  15 agonizing minutes dragged by before one of the kids mentions something about getting cold and wanting to ride again.  Taking advantage of that I told them it was time to get going. Finally, the group was on the move again. 

We finished the long loop and then we were supposed to start doing several loops on the short track.  After one lap (about a mile) they stopped again.  The rider leading the group mentioned he was going to do another lap with a strong and obvious implication that the group was to follow.  No one moved and he ended up riding the first loop alone.  He came back and did another lap, as if expecting at least some of the kids to join him on the second lap.  Again, no one followed.  In yet another attempt to get the kids moving again, another ride leader and I mentioned a few times that we were going to do part of the short track, climb a hill, and then return.  We repeated it several times with the expectation that the group would follow and we began riding away slowly.  And guess what!...  No one followed.   

Honestly, the ride left me a bit disappointed. I know that all can’t be sunshine and roses, I’ve seen so much to be proud of in the Folsom High School Cycling Team, but it was a blow to the joy of it all to see a group of kids not appreciate what they had before them. If there were high school cycling teams when I was in school, I would have been all over it, riding as often and with as much heart as I could.  Most of these kids aren’t riding cheap bikes, many of their parents were able to invest a lot more money in these bikes and equipment then my parents could invest in mine.  I could only have dreamed to have such opportunity and equipment handed to me when I was their age!

From my perspective, I saw this one group of kids unwilling to participate in an awesome opportunity.  Their parents cared enough to go without money and time so that their kids could have something good in their lives and they were wasting that opportunity, squandering that token of affection from their parents and right along with it wasting my time –as faithful readers of this blog know is incredibly precious for me, especially with a baby son waiting at home wondering where his dad is- and limited resources.  I have kids at home that would love for me to spend the day with them.  Instead I am out sitting in a valley with a bunch of kids with expensive bikes and gear that don’t want to ride. 

I can only hope that something, sometime –hopefully soon- will click for these kids and they will see that this is a time and opportunity in their lives to seize and live to the fullest. I can only pray that something that I can do or say may inspire at least some of them to make the most of what a community of caring adults can give because very few things in life can give the fierce and primal satisfaction of coming home with a bike so wonderfully painted with mud.

This Is What Cycling Is All About: Folsom High Cycling Team



Here I am with the littlest GroveTribe member before I had to get to work scoring the practice races.



The Folsom High MTB Team met at Willow Creek Reservoir to do a simulated race on a short track that will be used during race season.  Parents and ride leaders were invited to see what their kids were up to along with helping out if needed.

We came to check it out thinking that we would be able to sit back and enjoy the racing on what was supposed to be a relatively warm and sunny day (for January).   Well…  The forecast was wrong.  The sun never came out and it was bitterly cold.  The family stayed for a bit, but it was much too cold for my youngest to be hanging out for any length of time. The coach asked that I help with scoring, so I swung by the house to drop the family off in a warm house, and headed back out to the meet.  I also grabbed my helmet, gloves, and shoes just in case I needed to hop on a bike for any reason.  

One of the parent volunteers and his son supporting the older brother.

There were two simulated races that day which were being used to get an idea of where the kids stood in relation to the other kids so that, on race day, they would have a better idea of how to divide the kids into categories.  The first race was primarily for the newer riders who did two laps on the course.  The new riders did really well and as they came around for their lap, parents and volunteers would yell out encouragement to them.  I was really impressed by the friendly environment.  Parents weren’t yelling at each other.   No one was admonished or pressured about their performance.  This is an example of how sports should be for kids.

First batch heads out for warm-ups.  (I was too busy
scoring the race to take more action photos.)

The next race was a much larger group of the more advanced riders who did three laps of the course.  There was spirited competition as the riders battled it out for their place on the lap.  Scoring individual riders as they jockeyed for position was a challenge. Numbers, bodies and bikes sped by in a chaotic blur of teen spirit. Thankfully, I had two people helping me spot the numbers so that all I had to do was to write down the order the numbers were relayed to me.



I had a great time out there in the freezing cold and the eager performances of many of the riders were great to see -we have some real potential “Armstrongs” out there- but even better to see was the support of so many of their family members. There were parents, siblings, volunteers like myself and friends all coming out to make a cheering crowd; fighting the chill with the warmth of their support and encouragement. It was joyful and uplifting to experience and that is what cycling is all about.

 

Angus The Big Blue Bike

ANGUS: The Big Blue Bike with his GroveTribe owner Chris

We wanted to give our friends a bicycle gift for the holidays and on the eve of Christmas we decided to share the story of Angus The Big Blue Bike. Angus is the name of Chris' mountain bike and one day we started talking about all of his adventures and making up stories about Angus. Here is the first one we wrote. Please share this with your kids, read it out loud to them as a part of your Christmas celebration. HAPPY HOLIDAYS AND A WONDERFUL NEW YEAR!

ANGUS THE BIG BLUE BIKE
story by the GroveTribe

Angus’ first experience of the world was dark and noisy and bouncy.  He did not know where he was or where he was going and he was a bit frightened.  After a while the noises stopped and he could feel himself being lifted through the air. He was set down, still in his box and everything was quiet for a long time. He sat in the silent darkness and wondered what was to become of him. He began to feel very lonely and cramped.

A while later, Angus heard voices and although he was still a little frightened, he was excited and hoped he would be let out of his dark shipping box. The voices got louder and he began to be jostled about, he heard a loud noise and a rush of light and air flooded into his box. Hands grabbed his frame and pulled him from the box. He was very happy until he heard the voices grow angry.

“What’s this? A mountain bike? Hey! Did you order a mountain bike?!?” One voice said.

“Of course not! We only carry road bikes! I wouldn’t order a mountain bike!” Came a reply. “I’ll call and find out what happened. I can’t believe we get this sort of mess up just a week before Christmas.”

The voices walked away and Angus was left alone once more. Or so he though. Looking around he saw dozens of other bikes. Sleek, small bikes with delicate frames and thin smooth tires.  None of them looked like Angus. He was big and tall and blue with heavy, nubbly tires and a big, tough frame. He began to hear whispering among the other bikes.

“What’s HE doing here?”

“Have you ever seen something so clumsy looking?”

“Who would ever want to ride THAT?”

Angus had wanted to say something as soon as he saw the other bikes but now he felt awkward and afraid to speak. He just sat there very still and said nothing until the first two voices returned.

“Well.” Growled the first voice. “It looks like were stuck with it. Put him up in the rack and hopefully someone will buy it before Christmas.”

With that, Angus was gruffly lifted into a rack in between a petite black bike with delicate vines and leaves painted on her frame and a tall, red bike with thick white letters and handle bars. Once the bicycles were left alone, the tall red bike sneered at Angus.

“You don’t belong here. No will ever want you!”

“That’s enough Orbert! Be nice!” said the delicate black bike on the other side of him. “My name is Annadale. What’s yours?”

“My – my name is Angus. Why don’t I belong here? Why did those others call me a mountain bike and said that they didn’t want me?”

“Others?” Asked Annadale not sure of what Angus meant.

“They don’t look like bicycles. They have no wheels.” Angus explained.

“Oh! Those are RIDERS. We are made for them. When we have a rider of our own we become free and we become fast and nimble and taste the wind! Oh, to have a rider is the greatest dream come true!” exclaimed Annadale with hope and joy in her voice.   “This is called a bicycle shop, this is a place where riders come to find us and take us home to become part of their family. It is every bicycle’s hope to have a rider.”

“He’ll never have a rider. He is far too ugly? What rider could fly on the back of such a beast like him?” sniped a black bike with an angry pink stripe that curved along her frame.

“Damia! Be nice, it’s not his fault he shouldn’t be here! He’s just misplaced but I am sure someone will want him too.” Angus could tell that Annadale was trying to be nice but she did not sound like she believed he would ever find a rider of his own. Angus thought Annadale was very sweet but he didn’t want to be in this place where he felt so ugly and unwanted.

As days and night passed by, more and more riders entered the shop. Some were shorter and smaller and looked at bikes like Annadale and Damia. Some riders were tall and slim and muscular and would take bikes like Orbert off the rack and sit upon his seat. Orbert would preen and shine and looked so pleased with himself. No one looked at Angus.

More and more of the bicycles left the shop. Angus was very happy to see Orbert leave with a rider and ignored how proud the red bike looked. The shop became more and more empty and the whispers of gossip about Angus faded away as the bikes and riders, everyone except Annadale, ignored him.

Over and over he heard words like “Christmas” and “Hanukkah” and “present” repeated by the riders. The bicycles were always so excited when the shop was opened in the morning. Everyone was so joyful, except Angus. He knew that soon, a bike as beautiful as Annadale would go home with her own rider and he would have no friend left in the shop. Later that morning, one of the tall, muscular riders with eyes as blue as Angus’ frame touched Angus front tire and gave him a close look. Angus felt a rush of happiness and hope as the rider looked at his frame and his gearing and his brakes. Maybe, just maybe, this rider would want Angus!

Then a voice distracted the blue-eyed rider and he walked away, forgetting Angus and moving on to another part of the shop.

“Oh, Angus. I’m so sorry.” Whispered Annadale.  Angus just hung silently in his rack and refused to look at any more of the riders. It wasn’t until much later, when the shop lights went out and he turned to Annadale that he realized that she was gone. Annadale had been claimed by a rider and he hadn’t even said good-bye to her. He was so busy feeling sorry for himself that he didn’t share in his only friends joy that her dream had come true. Now Angus was more alone than ever.

The next morning the words “sale” and “clearance” and “Christmas Eve” were said by riders just as much as the words like “gift” and “under the tree”. More and more bicycles left and as the sky grew dark Angus found himself alone. The only bicycled that had not found his rider. The riders that helped the other riders find their bicycles started preparing the store for closing. Bits of paper were being counted. The floor was being swept and words like “family” and “dinner” and “time with the kids” were being used by the two riders left. When one of the riders turned the sign on the door around so that the word “closed” could be seen through the window. Angus’ heart sank. There would be no rider for him, he was big and ugly and alone. No one wanted him.

“No will ever want you!” Orbert had been right.

The two riders were pulling on jackets when a loud banging on the window made them turn around. One of them opened the door and let in a tall rider who walked right up to Angus. As soon as the rider looked up at Angus with his clear blue eyes and touched his frame.

“I want the Big Blue Bike.” The rider said. The other riders smiled and hurried to the money box while Angus felt himself being lifted by the strong hands of his rider.

“Do you want us to load it into your car for you, Sir?”

“No.” Replied Angus’ rider. “I’ve been saving up all year. I want to ride him home. “