I recently returned from an amazing trip to Osaka, Japan with my wife, Maggie, and her awesome parents/tour guides, Bill and Kazuko. We saw many great sights, we ate way too much good food, and saw more of the country than the most seasoned Japanese tourist.

Before we left for our travels, I thought that I had a good idea what bicycle culture would be like in Japan. But, wow, I had no idea. The sheer volume of cyclists blew me away. Bicycles are an integral part of life in Japan. Everyone of all ages and backgrounds ride bikes. Bicycles seem to be the number one choice for transportation. It’s a common site to see suit-wearing businessmen pedaling to work in the morning, busy moms picking up the kids from school on their bike in the afternoon, and teenagers with their date sitting sidesaddle on the rear rack. Bikes are everywhere.Most of the folks in Japan ride their bikes on the sidewalks. To an outsider it may look a bit chaotic and dangerous but all the mayhem seems to work. Pedestrians and bikes seem to flow on the bustling city streets. Just remember these rules; if you are out on foot to keep to the left side of the sidewalk (walk with the traffic not upstream), if you hear a bell ringing be sure to get out of the way. Sometimes you are given a warning to move when you hear the high pitched squeal of drum brakes.

In many business districts, bike parking can be a real problem. The sidewalks are overflowing with parked bikes. Many business owners, tired of having clusters of bike blocking their storefronts, place no parking signs outside of their storefronts. However, they are largely ignored. To help with this dilemma of parking, many buildings in the city have covered parking shelters. And, in order to provide ample bike storage, they have double-decker areas. Another convenient place for parking bikes was found underground in the walkway entrance for the subway. They even had ramps built into the center of the stairway to aid in the descent/ascent of pushing your bike. So many people use the subway and the bicycle for their daily commute. It was great to see so many people traveling without a car.On our travels, we managed to tie in a handful of bicycle related sight-seeing. We rented bikes a couple of times, we visited the Shimano funded bike museum in Sakai, and we watched Kirin racing. Check out the photos in the gallery. All in all, we had a great trip. The amazing variety of bicycles ranging from the cushy electric assist bikes, track bikes, utility-delivery bikes, to the super-compact folding bikes made for a trip filled with daily surprises.Enjoy the pictures in the photo gallery .

I wasn’t expecting to have a blast on a road/race bike this weekend, but I did. In truth, this was my first time at the Kenda Bikefest and I wasn’t sure what to expect. As it turns out, the weekend was filled with extremes. Mild weather, and incredible blue skies interspersed with intimidating thunderstorms in the night hours. The Dirt Rag crew had arrived on site Wednesday during a downpour that would have Noah looking for building material. Camping that night was under deep darkness, lit up by electrical fire, and the air rumbled with thunder bouncing around on the mountaintops. I didn’t expect that. It was awesome and humbling at once. Luckily, clear weather broke the next day and the site dried out fast. The cooler air the storm brought in set the stage for sweet riding conditions on Friday and Saturday with a nice breeze and the bluest of blue skies.

Wet roots made for some slick cornering on the trails I rode on Friday and Saturday, but the flow was nice and switchbacks made the climb up less strenuous. There were a few fords to cross on the way to and from the trail. It made for a nice cool down after the ride and a fun place to hang out and snap pictures.

By Sunday, the skies were clear but threatening and the festival winding down. With a bit of time to kill, my partner Dan and I wandered around the vendor area checking out the demo bikes. I ended up on the road bike out of sheer curiosity. Everyone about camp had been ogling the German engineered Storck Road Bikes available for demo and I guess I wanted to see what was up with the super skinny tires. They looked a bit alien and I was suspicious on how I would adapt to such a high end machine. The kind folks from Hawley USA who were demoing the bikes, set me up on the light weight (1180g/2.6lbs) Storck Scenario C 1.1 and Dan on the Scenario CD 1.0 (1080g/2.3lbs). The run down on both these bikes are impressive; both touting the proportional tubing that Stock feels is key to matching frames to rider’s size and weight plus the Storck Carbon Fiber Technology.

The two lane State Road 43 runs along the festival site and is newly paved, not too busy and exceptionally well maintained. It took only a few moments of hesitant pedaling-I am after all used to my mountain bike-to adapt to the bike balance. We started out north taking on the rolling hills with ease. To my surprise and delight, I didn’t even have to try on this bike. It just eats up the miles and after awhile you feel like maybe you’re pedaling just for something to do. It feels that nice. All in all, not what I had expected. After a bit we turned around and retraced our route to the festival and then overshot the venue to check out the climb up Brodie Mountain Road.Here is where the only bummer came into play. My seat tube had initially felt ok, but as the ride progressed, I noticed the seat was a tad too high. Unfortunately, it would only drop so far, which was a smidge not far enough. Each of my down strokes became a bit of a punishment a short ways up the climb. It was crushing having to stop because of this. I had already climbed further and gone farther than I had anticipated. But turning around and flying back down the road was a thrill and I’m not one to usually let speed slip through my hands.I did have a fleeting moment of concern thinking how hard I would hit the pavement if something did go awry, but as it turns out, the worst injury I received this weekend wasn’t from riding. It was from stumbling out of my tent in the wee hours and tripping over the rainfly line on my neighbor’s (Andy) tent, falling on the propane canister and gashing my knee. Go figure.So now I know what to expect. A little bit of rain, plenty of sun, good bourbon courtesy of Lee Hollenbeck and music to relax to thanks to Captain Dondo and and Charlie Kelley. Yeah. That was fun.

I’ll be the first to admit that attending the occasional press camp is one of the primo perks of my job. Case in point: jetting into Durango to ride Gary Fisher’s all new Roscoe and Trek’s updated Fuel EX bikes. It should come as no surprise that riding the latest and greatest bikes on world-class trails ranks a lot higher on the “journalistic fun scale” than, say, sleep-deprived proofreading during late-night deadline sessions.

Beyond riding cool bikes in Durango, I was wined and dined, and treated like a rock star. To be sure, everybody involved in the camp had a vested interest in keeping me, a “pen-is-mightier” journalist, as happy as a pig in mud. But I’m of the opinion that the folks organizing the press camp went out of their way to be good hosts because they are good people. You know the feeling—fellow mountain bikers helping one another out, showing an out-of-towner your best trails and making sure that the “guest” has a great time. That’s the sort of camaraderie that makes mountain biking such a great sport.

Before that warm and fuzzy kumbuyah feeling fades, I want to recognize the folks who made this press camp such a treat. Travis Ott and Aaron Mock, respectively the brand manager and product manager for Gary Fisher mountain bikes, did a whale of a job. As did the brand and product managers from the Trek side of the house: Michael Browne and John Riley. Durango local and Trek guy Travis Brown helped lead rides. Thanks to these guys and their entire staff for keeping things smooth. Jarred Connell and Nick DeLauder from Fox Racing Shox also stepped up huge, making sure our bike’s suspensions were dialed in for maximum pleasure.

Beyond the Gary Fisher, Trek and Fox guys, there was a small army of support personnel that contributed to making this camp feel more like vacation than work. Matt McFee and Nate Whitman, owners of Hermosa Tours, had the unenviable task of herding 20+ journalistic cats onto shuttles and leading us on guided rides. Matty and Nate (and all of the Hermosa Tour guides) handled everything that was thrown at them, with smiles on their faces. That’s hard work, and they deserve kudos for their performance. In addition to Durango, the Hermosa boys also run tours in southwest Utah and southern California, depending on the season. Check out hermosatours.net for more info.

There was plenty of hard work to go around. Our photographers Sterling Lorence and Geoff Waugh worked their tails off—riding along with massive backpacks full of camera gear and setting up on-trail to get action shots. When I post my final report on this press camp, I promise to share plenty of their photoggery (an inside joke from camp) via the Dirt Rag Gallery.

A Texas-sized “thank you” goes to Odis Wilson, caretaker of the Sliver Mountain Guest Ranch, located a few miles outside of downtown Durnago. Gary Fisher set us up in Sliver Mountain’s kick-ass cabins, and we press campers had the entire ranch to ourselves for two fantastic days. Sweet trails are accessible from the ranch, and Odis, a newbie mountain biker himself, busted his rump making sure we had everything we needed. Happy campers all around. If your travel plans include Durango, you owe it to yourself to check out what Sliver Mountain Guest Ranch has to offer. Say howdy to Odis for me.

If you’d rather stay in town, then the Strater Hotel—our home for the Trek portion of the camp—is your ticket. This charming old gal is right on main street, the rooms are comfy, and the staff will do whatever it takes to make your stay enjoyable. Great vibe.

At the end of the day, mountain biking is about great trails, and Durango has got great trails galore. A lot of the credit goes to Trails 2000, Durango’s advocacy group. Riding Durango’s trails, I could “feel” the tender loving care that went into designing them, cutting them, and keeping them well maintained. No small task, but a labor of love, I’m certain. If you visit Durango, I’d recommend purchasing a membership or otherwise making a donation to Trails 2000, as a sort of “karmic payback” for the sweet riding in the area. Trek generously purchased a membership for each of the journalists at the camp, and I plan on stepping up and renewing my membership, just to help this fine organization maintain the great riding in Durango. Kumbuyah, indeed.

Anybody else see any road racing coverage lately, particularly the Tour de France? Anybody else blown away by the amount of motorized vehicles that accompanies the peloton?  That’s not even all of it. There are multiple team buses, camera helicopters and all the weird little product placement vehicles that travel the route before the racers, dispensing candy and trinkets to the fans lining the roadsides.

This bothers me. Not so much from an environmental standpoint, which could be the subject of another posting. I bothered by the fact that racing bicycles seems to be so dependent on cars, not just to support the riders, but also for sponsorship reasons.

I like long unsupported rides, and I think there could be a place for this on the road as well as off road. Here’s my idea.

The biggest change I’d like to see is a complete elimination of outside support. No more Mavic support motorcycles, no more team cars with wheels, bikes and bidons. I’d leave in the feed zones, but all else needs to be carried by the racer, or others on the team. What I envision happening from this is each team developing a cargo  bike specialist to carry spare wheels food and water, but also racing as part of the team. Think of a racing version of the Xtracyle or Big Dummy, outfitted for support use, and ridden by a group of riders with some French name, like transporteur.

I can here Phil Liggett now, talking about domestiques dropping back to the pack of tranporteurs to secure water and food for the team leaders up the road, grabbing a musette bag and sprinting back to the main peloton.  Your team leader has a flat? Better give up your wheel and wait for the your tranporteur to roll up with your needed spare wheel.

This could create another aspect to racing and a group of tough guys that for the cargo bike freaks among us to look up too, not to mention some of the technology that would be developed to make cargo bikes lighter, stronger and faster.

Also, no more team radios. You need to know who is in the break up the road? Hope you were paying attention when it went. How far up the road are they? Better go chase it down just in case.  Adding a bit of uncertainty to racing will make it more interesting.

In the real news of road racing another team has pulled out of the Tour after their leader and 9th placed riders rider tested positive for a new and improved version of EPO. Sad, but hopefully a sign that doping controls are staying apace of the advancements in pharmaceuticals used by the cheaters in the peloton.

I’ve been rolling this around in my head for quite a while, but one of the photos in Karl’s Rider Profile of Sarah Hansing really solidified the point; I know quite a few bicycle people who are also motocycle riders, and visa versa. Having recently been re-bitten by the motorcycle bug, I can certainly sympathize.

It’s always been interesting to me how much crossover there is between the motorized, and non-motorized two-wheeled worlds. Not that this overlap is surprising, quite the contrary. There are obvious parallels; exposure to the elements, the sensation of moving through the air, leaning into corners, etc. The differences are just as obvious; burning petroleum, much higher speeds, and the intoxicating acceleration and deceleration that can only be experienced on a motorcycle. Both two-wheeled endeavors also provide one with a sense of freedom and independence that attracts a lot of us to one, or both, sides of the coin.

I’ve always had a tendency to explore, never feel quite satisfied until I know the lay of the land around me. Starting close to home with walking and cycling, I eventually cover most of the immediate area, but as you travel further from home these trips start to take too long in relation to the amount of ground covered. Enter the motorcycle, which has played a vital role in my exploration. With a motorcycle, or scooter for that matter, one can cover so much more ground in a given amount of time while burning less gas, and arguably having more fun, than one would with four wheels. After all, my relatively large, powerful, gas-hog of a moto still gets 40+ miles per gallon, while smaller more fuel efficient motos and scooters regularly see upwards of 100mpg. Certainly not a bad middle ground in the age of high gas prices.

So, after that long-winded introduction, I thought I’d share some photos from my most recent moto trip to my family’s cabin in north-central Pennsylvania. Russell’s Roost, as it’s called, was named after my great-grandfather. Originally built circa 1940, the cabin has provided a place for my family to retreat for four generations.

My parents accompanied me for part of the ride up:

Look closely at the first shot for the deer in the creek:

Here are some shots of the cabin:

Here’s a photo of the back corner of the cabin. We used to have a bear (haven’t seen him/her in a while) that used this corner as a back scratch, and occasionally tried to get into the cabinent behind this wall:

Of course a cabin built in the ’40s has all the modern conveniences, including a room with a view:

Running water, of the fresh mountain spring variety, and many interesting bugs:

After doing some chores on Saturday morning I headed out to tour some of the hundreds of miles of dirt roads:

Most of which still had some Mountain Laurel in bloom, though it was well past peak:

A good portion of these roads parallel streams like these:

I did manage to hit some tarmac road, and made a stop at Hyner View StatePark to take in the view and see the hang gliders in action:

Later in the day I made my way over to the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon:

After that it was back to the cabin for an evening of relaxation, and some time spent in my favorite chair, with a few mountain-stream-chilled beers courtesy of my folks. This “vintage” vinyl piece of work comes complete with electrical tape patches and armrest mounted ash tray–times change, eh?

It sure was nice to get out of the city and into the solitude of the big woods for a weekend. Every time I’m there, I can’t help but feel the call to stay. Sooner or later…

That’s right, I’m leaving myself wide open for ridicule and derision at work and at home with a bold statement like that. Those at the office live and breathe bikes and for me to have the most incredible experience of my life NOT on 2 wheels borders on travesty. Similarly at home, after marriage and the birth of our child, having these two things take a back seat to jumping out of a perfectly good airplane could put me in hot water. That’s ok. I think I’m still delirious from the jump.

We did the quick and easy tandem jump, where basically the student is strapped on to the chest of the instructor. There is very little training involved with this kind of jump and within an hour we were suited up and ready to go.

We jumped from 13,500 feet and freefell for about 50 seconds. Leaving the plane, you accelerate towards the ground reaching 120mph almost instantly.

Then my instructor opened the chute and we rode it down to the ground for about 10 minutes.

So what was so great about it? A few choice words come to mind like exhilarating, peaceful, cleansing, and transcendent. But that doesn’t scratch the surface. The sensation of skydiving is something that is indescribable. Since doing it I keep trying to tell everyone I know what it was like, but it really is beyond description. The exhilaration of the freefall accompanied by the beautiful, quiet tranquility of the parachute ride down to the ground is a sublime mixture of emotions and sensory overload. It is something I feel that absolutely everyone must try.

Photos courtesy of Skydive Pennsylvania.