The Yawp Company - The Anti-Team

We here at Yawp have a love/hate relationship with traditional cycling teams, so we're going to form the kind of team that we'd want to join. This will probably take a longer explanation than we'd like. We want to keep this simple, but even we have a lot of questions about what, exactly, we intend to do. So let's start by doing away with the term "team."

team

noun

1. a group of people who compete in a sport, game, etc., against another group.

Well, what we're out to do has nothing to do with competition. We won't be attending races. (If you want to race in your Yawp kit, that's fantastic! The Bailey Hundo and other races are fun and do good things for the cycling community. However, races are outside of our ambitions.) In the Yawp Company, the riders in the front have to carry the beer for the riders in the back--that's about all the attention we'll pay to how fast people ride. So, instead of a "team," we're going to be a company.

company

noun

1. companions, associates <know a person by the company she keeps>

Why would anyone want to do this? Here's our rationale. We've tried racing, and while there are some valuable things about it, it's not quite a fit for us.

What we don't like about racing: we don't care about winning, and we certainly don't like when people who do care about winning throw elbows at us. We don't like riding in the angry centipede for the first five miles of a race. We don't like paying to ride our bikes. 

What we do like about racing: the ride! Yeah! Twenty-five to one hundred miles of Colorado singletrack! Yes please! Also, races force us to go ride these amazing rides. Signing up months in advance and plunking down $100 basically ensures that we'll actually get our gear together and gas up the car and go do what we said we were going to do: ride bikes. Races also provide a very good environment to try new things. It's scary to attempt a long ride alone in unfamiliar territory, especially if you're going somewhere you've never been. Riding with a group provides support, and it's fun. 

So we're going to try to take all the good parts from our racing experiences, omit all of the bad parts, and save a little money while we're at it. If that sounds good to you, then yours is the kind of company we want to keep.

What we plan to do: there will be six Company trips--one per month from May through October. We look to keep driving time to a minimum, and probably won't go any further than Fruita (although Phil's World may be a possibility). We'll ride the snot out of our bikes for two days, sit around a campfire, and drink some beer. 

Fancy Clothes: Yup, we're getting some. We're planning to order wool jerseys. We're getting nice stuff, too, so you don't hate wearing it. We'll post some designs as soon as we have them.

Must I Buy the Fancy Clothes? No, you don't.

Women's Fancy Clothes: Ladies, cycling is much better with you than without. We hope you also enjoy these wool jerseys. We understand that "unisex" often means something that men enjoy and that you have to put up with. However, the feedback we've heard about these wool jerseys is that they are enjoyable for everyone. We hope that's true. If not, please speak up.

Dues: We have no dues. We believe riding bikes should be free (see above).

What's Provided: An organizational framework, a good time, and not much else. We'll secure the camping and reserve shuttles if we need them. We'll provide short and long route options. We'll do everything we can to make this rad for everyone, but we aren't going to cook for you (and you wouldn't want us to). 

What is required of me? Please have a current COMBA/IMBA.

Is this just for mountain bikers? Roadies are people, too. If you want to camp with us and ride your road bike/unicycle instead, please do. 

If you're interested, sign up below. We'll have our annual spring meeting on March 1st, 2018 at 7:00pm. Yeah!

Here are the reports from our 2015 trips:

Fruita | Eagle | Crested Butte | Bikepacking with Surly | Salida | Grand Junction | Moab

2014 vs. 2015

2014 was a long year, the longest year we've ever had. I'm lucky to remember any of it, and most of what I remember is "good," meaning that these memories leave me with favorable feelings. In fact, 2014 could've been complete crap, but I've succeeded in forgetting most of whatever crap happened, which in the very least makes 2014 a complete success of selective memory and/or punctilious use of whiskey. 

So 2014 was pretty alright. Can 2015 be better? We hope so. We have big plans.

Part 1: Arbitrary Moments of 2014

Best shop purchase.

Perfect dusk ride turns...

...into perfect night ride.

2014 gets blurry!

Mondays: the Buff Creek parking lot is (almost) empty.

Boss Man!

Sweet Bloom Coffee: you just can't not buy more.

Two dogs, six legs, all of the wags.

Something in 2014 went right.

Some really kind folks gave us some really rockin' records! Thanks to Brent, Brian, Vickie, and Seth! We are gonna air guitar so hard.

Too clean.

Yep! 2014 was rad! Will 2015 be better? We have a couple of ideas that we hope will help.

Part 2: Resolutions for 2015

1. One of the best things that happened in 2014 was an accident: a moonlight ride at Buffalo Creek. It was good enough that we're going to shoot for 3 of them this year. We'll post about these rides in advance.

2. Yawp Cyclery is going to start a "team" that will focus on rides instead of races. We'll have more info about this in a week or two.

3. More snacks.

2015 is looking pretty good out of the gate. Let's help it out by riding out bikes a bunch.

Video of the Week

Black Knight Friday Sale 11/28 10:00 to 6:00

It's our first Black Knight Friday Sale. We'll have hot apple cider, leftover Thanksgiving goodies poached from the dessert table, and discounts of up to 20% on parts and accessories and stuff. Bikes will cost $100 more than usual. If you buy a bike, Yawp will donate $200 dollars to a charity of your choice (we know of a handful of really rad bicycle charities if you don't have a favorite charity).

Yawp will be closed on Thanksgiving Day so that we can LARP.

Front Range Fat Biking is not Fad Biking

Some people consider winter bicycling to be idiotic. Since this blog isn't authorized to determine who's an idiot and who's not, let's instead question whether winter bicycling is or is not extreme. Humans do lots of extreme stuff, and as long as a lot of people participate in that activity (or at least in their wildest dreams wish they could), nobody has an unkind word to say.

This being Colorado, I imagine I don't have to push this argument too far. We, for example, have this guy, whom everyone loves for nothing but his extremism and devotion. The number of winter riders in Denver is growing, and if motorists don't yet expect to see us riding on snowy days, we're nearing the day when they will. If you live in Colorado, there's a good chance you ski, snowboard, climb frozen waterfalls, dogsled, snow pogo, ice dive, glacier snorkel, or slush surf, so if you drive by a cyclist and wonder what that idiot is doing, then you are probably thinking tribally and not globally, my friend.

I said all of that to say this: fat biking in the snow is awesome, and if you haven't tried it, you should. With the price of ski passes moving into four-digit territory (that's $2000 (!) for Aspen or Telluride) and with traffic on I-70 moving slower than a corn cob through a terrier, there's no reason not to try fat biking. If you haven't tried it already, here's a story about what you might sort of expect.

My compatriot J-Mix (J Mikks (J Miques)) and I recently had ourselves quite a time on fat bicycles. It was fifteen degrees when we met at the Apex parking lot. 

In minutes we had stripped down to our base layers. I wore only a merino wool Icebreaker shirt (that's about as thick as a t-shirt) and some summer gloves for a majority of the climb. I'm sure this would be a different story if the sun hadn't been out, but still, it was by no means unpleasant or even chilly.

The snow didn't make much about the climb more difficult than it would've been on a dry day. The only tricky sections were where rocks warmed in the sun and then melted the surrounding snow. This made the larger rock slabs wet and muddy. Rocks the size of volleyballs were slippery enough to throw my rear wheel sideways. The texture of the snow varied so that switchbacks in the shade were a cinch, while sunny switchbacks and wet water bars proved a little slippery, but neither J Micks nor I dabbed more than we would've on a dry run.

When the going gets tough, the tough get beards.

Jay Michs on the path of the ninja.

Since we weren't blazing trail, getting started on steep slopes was easy. I was riding a Surly Ice Cream Truck with Bud and Lou 4.8 tires that, on the sunny front side of Apex, were the very definition of authoritative.

The backside of Apex (after the new Grubstake cutoff cut off) had more snow and fewer tracks, so we had to break our own trail on Sluicebox and beyond. Breaking uphill trail in five plus inches of snow was difficult. Getting started was especially tricky, but we took turns and stopped where the snow was thin and things were fine, though neither of us brought enough food. We figured (any by 'figured' I mean made up without any real data) we exerted about 1.5 times as much energy as we would've in summer, which means we wanted snacks in a bad way. Hot chocolate, snacks, and whiskey are three things we absolutely should've had.

Quick tip: keep all of your weight over the rear wheel while simultaneously keeping all of your weight over the front wheel.

At the top, we opted to turn around and descend the tail we'd just made instead of braking trail downhill. We descended. It was hilarious. I won't speak for J-Micz, but I personally navigated the fine line between having the time of my life and also fearing for it (my life). Wrecking, though, hurt about as much as a pillow fight.

Quick tip: when you want to turn in deep snow, don't use the handlebars. Use the Force.

Descending the front side, where the snow was thin and heavily traveled, was just like riding a bike. 

Glove liners were almost too much on climbs, while ski mittens weren't enough on descents. You need a larger pack than you normally carry, so you can haul extra layers and a shell (also a thermos, buritto, goggles, etc.) uphill. Mittens, by the way, won't give you the dexterity you'll need to hold onto the bar and operate the brakes with frozen fingers. You'll need lobster claws, and if there's one activity where Bar Mitts really shine, this is it.

Even if you are completely worn out and cold and tired and have a millions things to do, you will probably immediately make plans to ride your fat bike at Three Sisters the following day, no matter how much you don't want to. Because you will really really want to.

While J Mixe and I drank hot cocoa on this rocky outcropping, we talked about how nice it was to have a winter sport again. Both of us have fallen away from the land of lift lines and interstate parking lots, and not getting outside makes winters long and unbearable. When you don't get out and play in the snow, winter is just something you have to shovel. These trails border on urban areas, and yet are silent and isolating. Just a few miles outside of the city, the winter woods feel just like the vast and remote woods I grew up wandering around in, and are exactly what I need to see in order to return restored to grocery store lines, stoplights, unabating liter, and junk mail.

Jefferson County's New Northfork Trail

The veritable Mr. Biggity and I were able to ride Jeffco's new trail, and were pleased with the experience. We started at the trailhead in Reynolds Park--which you may pass on your way to Buff Creek if you take S. Foxton Road (County Road 97)--and rode mostly downhill for 10 miles to where the trail ends at County Road 96 and the Platte River. You can download a PDF of Jeffco's trail map on their website. (Note: Jeffco kindly shuttled us from the bottom of the trail back up to the trailhead, thus cutting out a 10-mile climb back to the car).

From the Reynolds Park parking lot, you have to cross S. Foxton Road to find the trail. There are other trails that leave the same parking lot that seemed, to us, more obvious. Don't be fooled. You will know you are on the right trail if you find yourself on one of the steepest climbs you've ever ridden.

Even the bears lighten up for this climb.

You start on the valley floor. After about 1/2 mile, this is where you stop to barf.

A nice fellow from Jeffco named Dave told us they've already had several groups volunteer to build some switchbacks through this section so that you won't have to belay each other straight up the mountain.

There is a little climbing after this initial push, but the rest of the climbs are short and mellow. From the top of this hill onward, it felt like one very fast, winding descent. Once the trail is ridden down and buffed out, it's going to feel like a bobsled run. There's nothing technical here, just lots of fun. You'll also get some pretty great views of the surrounding area, of which I didn't take a single picture because I could not make myself stop riding for even one minute. When we did finally stop, I took a few quick foliage pictures before we rolled on.

It would be easy to link this trail up with the Colorado Trail, and then the trails at Buff Creek for a day as long as you would want to make it. The math here is a little rough, but if you started at Reynolds park, you'd pass the top of Nice Kitty after about 25 miles. You could then ride the (fantastic) Little Scraggy trail as an out-and-back, and by the time you made it back to the car you'd be nearing 65ish miles. This would make a great day with a few friends, but it would be a tough, uphill finish. If you're training for a hundo or otherwise punishing yourself, this might be a good option.

It's pretty awesome that we have so much good mountain biking within an hour's drive. If you have been riding bikes for awhile but have yet to pick up a shovel, please consider doing so. Hundreds of people are moving into Colorado every month, and our trails won't stay nice if we don't help keep them nice. Check out Jeffco's trailbuiding events here if you're interested. The Northfork trail took 8 years to build. The more people who help build trails, the more trails we'll have, and the more trails we have, the more handsome and intelligent we'll be.