Well it certainly has been quite some time since I put any fine new reading material out there. I received a text from none other than C"rot"ch this morning. He was left in tears of euphoria and times past by browsing our old blog, located in the comments section of Robortion's blorg. I took a look at some of that stuff this afternoon, and my mind was re-blown. The buildup from mid 2008 to when Robort turned on the comment moderator in February 2010 is quite stunning. What began as the occasional duty report from Croatch Ryback blossomed into a work of art both stupefying and timeless. Flashes of it's brilliance even spilled over into the comments section of the blog you are currently reading, the most recent a tri-ku left by the illustrious Dubbs only weeks ago. This naturally inspired me to take to the infertubes and relive those glory days by authoring my first post in two years. I am a bit rusty, but once the jenkem kicks in the words will flow like beer shits at an AARP convention.
Just in case any of you have forgotten, Jenkem is a drug invented by Zambian street children. To make it you simply shit in a two liter bottle, fix a balloon to the top, wait until the balloon is nice and tight with gases emitting from the fermented shit, and take a big lung busting pull off that balloon and let the good times roll. Medical professionals, such as myself, advise brushing your teeth shortly thereafter. The drug brings on waves of euphoria and memories of times past, and for some lucky users, a direct encounter with the one and only Energor, the god of turds, energy drinks, and ancient chinese scrolls. I for one would like to take this opportunity to thank the Zambians for their vision and innovation. It makes me wonder, how did these kids come up with the concept. Did they intentionally shit in a bottle and trap the fermented gases, or did they simply happen upon a two liter full of shit with a balloon tied to it and randomly decide to inhale the gases? Did they have help from ancient alien astronauts? We may never know the answer to these questions. Perhaps the formula came straight from Energor in a dream or vision. Either way, my world will never be quite the same, and I owe it all to the Zambians.
I was reminded while enjoying our blog within Robort's blog, that at one point we had actually raised $200 to pay Robort to huff jenkem. At the time we weren't sure if it was real or not. Some information pointed to it being a hoax, other sources swore it was quite real. Only one way to find out for sure. Surprisingly Robort didn't take the offer. He would eat bugs for a dollar, but he would not huff Jenkem.
As it turns out, all we had to do was turn the air off at TC Man on a hot day which actually released all the years of TC Man farts from the drywall and created a Jenkemshpere in the building. Teh rest is history, and we got to spend $200 on sausages. Those were the days. I miss the Robortion. I have only seen him once since I moved to AZ. I was somewhat hoping that when I checked my blog after abandoning it for so long I would find it had been hijacked and had 134 comments about jenkem and other enlightening information. One of these days. For now I am going to retire to the giant tub of vaseline in which I sleep.
Get totally Mini Vanned
Doctor
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Friday, December 23, 2011
Merry Fucking CXMAS Jerks!!!!!!!
Well It has been awhile, but I am sure that Mr Dubbs or Crotch will eventually swing by to leave a duty report and stumble upon my holiday post here. During all the holiday revelry I wanted to take a moment to focus on the true reason for the season, the birth of our Lord Energor. With all the racing, drinking, jenkem goggles, and naughty elves it is easy to get forget why we celebrate in the first place. As I sat atop Mt. Kohler this morn reading the ancient Chinese scrolls telling of Energor's creation,life, and eventual sacrifice I thought it would be appropriate to begin this post with an excerpt from The Gospel of Energor, New Zambian Version
I Energor, chapter 1 verse 10 "In the tenth cycle of the TC Man calendar, our universe was condensed from the jenkem ether by Energor's mighty inhalation of the sacred vapors. Our reality is the manifestation of his jenkem goggled visions. Near the end of the fifteenth cycle of the TC Man calendar the mighty Energor had grown displeased with the state of mankind and he came to our earth in the form of a nine foot tall energy can robot in order to teach us all the ways of jenkem, so that we might reach the next phase of our evolution which is set to occur at the end of the TC Man Calendar, December 21, 2012. Even though he travelled the globe trying to spread the gospel his only disciples were Zambian street children, who eventually, in a sobriety induced rage murdered the physical manifestation of our Lord Energor with thrift store golf clubs. Once they realized what they had done, his disciples reconstructed him with gorilla glue and built a shrine at TC Man, and made daily pilgrimages to participate in jenkem rituals at the feet of their Lord. Only those righteous will survive the next evolutionary phase, which can only be attained through diligent jenkem goggled meditation"
So as you celebrate this season take time to shit in a two liter bottle, cap it with a balloon, ferment it in the sun for two weeks, inhale the vapors, and reflect on the teachings of Energor. And Naughty Elves.
Fuck you Jerks,
UnaDoctor
I Energor, chapter 1 verse 10 "In the tenth cycle of the TC Man calendar, our universe was condensed from the jenkem ether by Energor's mighty inhalation of the sacred vapors. Our reality is the manifestation of his jenkem goggled visions. Near the end of the fifteenth cycle of the TC Man calendar the mighty Energor had grown displeased with the state of mankind and he came to our earth in the form of a nine foot tall energy can robot in order to teach us all the ways of jenkem, so that we might reach the next phase of our evolution which is set to occur at the end of the TC Man Calendar, December 21, 2012. Even though he travelled the globe trying to spread the gospel his only disciples were Zambian street children, who eventually, in a sobriety induced rage murdered the physical manifestation of our Lord Energor with thrift store golf clubs. Once they realized what they had done, his disciples reconstructed him with gorilla glue and built a shrine at TC Man, and made daily pilgrimages to participate in jenkem rituals at the feet of their Lord. Only those righteous will survive the next evolutionary phase, which can only be attained through diligent jenkem goggled meditation"
So as you celebrate this season take time to shit in a two liter bottle, cap it with a balloon, ferment it in the sun for two weeks, inhale the vapors, and reflect on the teachings of Energor. And Naughty Elves.
Fuck you Jerks,
UnaDoctor
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
WTF???
Good day you jerk ass sonsofbitches. Well, sort of good day. It seemed like a good day, 65 degrees, 1 mile an hour wind, nice road lunch ride, double IPA waiting at the shop for dessert. About half way through my beer and a discussion with a customer about the endless benefits of tubeless, I get a distressed phone call from Mrs. Dr. She had been riding her bike to meet with the gentlemen who puts on the whiskey 50 about helping with the race, and was the victim of a hit and run. She was right around the corner from our house rolling up to the stop light in the left turn lane when a car came screaming around the corner, cut into her lane, hit her head on, and then like a real piece of shit sped away up the hill. One of the witnesses to the crash tried to follow, but ultimately lost him and couldn't get the plate number. Another guy who saw it stayed and gave a statement to the police, and drove Mrs. Doctor and her bike back to our house. The two dudes that helped also gave me and the police a good description of the car and where he had chased it to before it got away, which happened to be a pretty dead end sub division, meaning the car was probably still in there. We got Mrs Dr home, she suffered only some road rash and some bruises, and then went to comb the sub division for the car. After about an hour and a half of poking around, I think I found it. I almost knocked on the door of the house it was in front of, but decided that would probably turn out badly in the long run (translated: me facing assault charges) and took the plate number and address and called it in. Hopefully we found this piece of shit. Who hits someone and leaves them lying in the street? We'll find out more tomorrow once the police check this car out.
On a lighter note, per Crotcheese's request, a 24 hours in the old Pooblow race report. being the dedicated procrastinator, registration filled up before I could really solidify any plans of singing up for the race, sending me to the message board to see if any other unfortunate souls needed teammates for teams that were already signed up. Found a four man team, sweet, 4 maybe 5 laps tops each. I can do that. We got a little snow, which kept me from riding as much as I wanted to get ready for the race, but I was pretty confident that I could do ok on the four man team. Then, four days before the race, I was notified that the rest of that team had backed out. Back to the message board for the race, all I could find was a spot on a Duo team. Oh shit.
So me and two guys from my shop who were also doing a duo team left on Thursday morning on the four hour trip to the race, set up camp right by the start line, and pre rode the course. Piece of cake. Not too much climbing, pretty flowy, way too many cactus lining the trail (more on that later) Good rigid single speed riding. I knew the duo was going to be hard (probably 8 laps instead of 5) but I was pretty sure I could survive it. Rode the course again on Friday and only reinforced that I was going to make it. Woke up Saturday for the start of the race, unzipped my tent, and almost got blown away. 35 mile an hour winds had worked their way from northern AZ down to Tucson and brought with them high chances for precipitation, and much colder temperatures. And DUST. Holy fucking shit the DUST. Only now have I gotten all the sand out of my lungs. My teammate, a 21 year old dude from Oregon, wanted to do the first lap which was just fine with me. He put in a 1:19 on a geared bike, I did the same for my first lap. On our next laps we each had 1:24:02 exactly. Then shit got interesting. after my teammates third lap, it was now dark, 35 mile wind, sideways freezing rain, and my turn. I put my head down and just kept moving, putting in a decent enough 1:32. When I got back I realized I was out of dry clothes so I stood by the fire and tried to dry out while my teammate did 2 laps. (we were going to do this once each to give the other a longer break) It had stopped raining at the very end of my previous lap, and by the time I went out again, the trail that had been dusty and loose, and then gone to puddles everywhere, was now pretty hard packed and fast, but I was pretty cold and wet. The temps were in the low 30's and the wind was still blowing hard and it was my turn to crush out two laps. toward the end of my first one I started not feeling too terribly good, by the end of the second one I think was headed toward hypothermia. I went to stretch and try and warm up in my tent. When my teammate came back, I got up to go out and both of my legs just seized with cramps. I knew I was done. I had only made it till 6 oclock in the morning, the race ended at noon. I had done 5 laps and about 80 miles. I laid in the tent trying to stretch the cramps out and get some motivation to ride, but that cramps stayed and the motivation never came. I drank IPA's while my teammate did 3 or 4 more laps for ten total, which put us in 15th out of 81 duo teams. I had found a ringer on the internet. He didn't even know how he rode so much, his longest training ride to date had been 4 hours. He said he had a heart rate monitor and just stayed in whatever gear kept his numbers in check. 160 miles is a pretty healthy road ride let alone mountain bike. Cheers to that kid, and may he try solo next time. I will be going with a four man team so I can drink beer and relax a bit more. February is too early to be too serious. The two guys from my shop Crushed it, putting down consistent 1:25 ish laps for 16 laps, a fair 8 each, and a tenth place finish. Nice work fuckers. On rigid single speeds no less.
While I didn't accomplish too terribly much during the race, I had a good 5 day weekend, and met some cool people, and had a pretty good time, which is all I really had set out to do anyway. The weather made the party atmosphere a little more subdued than it apparently has been in the past, but we made the best of it. This would be an interesting candidate for a national Seagal meeting, but a lot travel for everyone but me.
In the meantime, watch out for assholes when you're on the road, sage words of wisdom.
Doctor
On a lighter note, per Crotcheese's request, a 24 hours in the old Pooblow race report. being the dedicated procrastinator, registration filled up before I could really solidify any plans of singing up for the race, sending me to the message board to see if any other unfortunate souls needed teammates for teams that were already signed up. Found a four man team, sweet, 4 maybe 5 laps tops each. I can do that. We got a little snow, which kept me from riding as much as I wanted to get ready for the race, but I was pretty confident that I could do ok on the four man team. Then, four days before the race, I was notified that the rest of that team had backed out. Back to the message board for the race, all I could find was a spot on a Duo team. Oh shit.
So me and two guys from my shop who were also doing a duo team left on Thursday morning on the four hour trip to the race, set up camp right by the start line, and pre rode the course. Piece of cake. Not too much climbing, pretty flowy, way too many cactus lining the trail (more on that later) Good rigid single speed riding. I knew the duo was going to be hard (probably 8 laps instead of 5) but I was pretty sure I could survive it. Rode the course again on Friday and only reinforced that I was going to make it. Woke up Saturday for the start of the race, unzipped my tent, and almost got blown away. 35 mile an hour winds had worked their way from northern AZ down to Tucson and brought with them high chances for precipitation, and much colder temperatures. And DUST. Holy fucking shit the DUST. Only now have I gotten all the sand out of my lungs. My teammate, a 21 year old dude from Oregon, wanted to do the first lap which was just fine with me. He put in a 1:19 on a geared bike, I did the same for my first lap. On our next laps we each had 1:24:02 exactly. Then shit got interesting. after my teammates third lap, it was now dark, 35 mile wind, sideways freezing rain, and my turn. I put my head down and just kept moving, putting in a decent enough 1:32. When I got back I realized I was out of dry clothes so I stood by the fire and tried to dry out while my teammate did 2 laps. (we were going to do this once each to give the other a longer break) It had stopped raining at the very end of my previous lap, and by the time I went out again, the trail that had been dusty and loose, and then gone to puddles everywhere, was now pretty hard packed and fast, but I was pretty cold and wet. The temps were in the low 30's and the wind was still blowing hard and it was my turn to crush out two laps. toward the end of my first one I started not feeling too terribly good, by the end of the second one I think was headed toward hypothermia. I went to stretch and try and warm up in my tent. When my teammate came back, I got up to go out and both of my legs just seized with cramps. I knew I was done. I had only made it till 6 oclock in the morning, the race ended at noon. I had done 5 laps and about 80 miles. I laid in the tent trying to stretch the cramps out and get some motivation to ride, but that cramps stayed and the motivation never came. I drank IPA's while my teammate did 3 or 4 more laps for ten total, which put us in 15th out of 81 duo teams. I had found a ringer on the internet. He didn't even know how he rode so much, his longest training ride to date had been 4 hours. He said he had a heart rate monitor and just stayed in whatever gear kept his numbers in check. 160 miles is a pretty healthy road ride let alone mountain bike. Cheers to that kid, and may he try solo next time. I will be going with a four man team so I can drink beer and relax a bit more. February is too early to be too serious. The two guys from my shop Crushed it, putting down consistent 1:25 ish laps for 16 laps, a fair 8 each, and a tenth place finish. Nice work fuckers. On rigid single speeds no less.
While I didn't accomplish too terribly much during the race, I had a good 5 day weekend, and met some cool people, and had a pretty good time, which is all I really had set out to do anyway. The weather made the party atmosphere a little more subdued than it apparently has been in the past, but we made the best of it. This would be an interesting candidate for a national Seagal meeting, but a lot travel for everyone but me.
In the meantime, watch out for assholes when you're on the road, sage words of wisdom.
Doctor
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Feild Report: Zambia
Well fuck me running. It has been a long time since I posted on this turd of a blog (which was hijacked in my absence) Shortly after my last post I began an exceptionally long journey, sort of a jenkem vision quest if you will. I travelled to Colorado for Stove's wedding, and from there continued travelling the jenkem highlands in search of answers, and new tube shapes. Praise Energor. I finshed my journey at 24 hours of old pueblo in Tucson and am now home coughing up sand. (seriously) and Jenkem. (seriously)
As March rolls around the days are getting longer and anticipation is high, for many great things are only days away. As you may remember that jerk ass jerk Nico Toscani came here last year to wreak havoc on the Sedona Big Friggin Loop (I'd put a link, but seriously it is just a couple of posts down, just scroll down) Many things hampered our planned Team Seagal domination. I was reduced to hiking a couple of weeks before the race, and Toscani got a little turned around and blocked by a river. This year we are going back, with reinforcements in the form of a healthy collar bone for me, a charged GPS battery for Toscani, and Stove. That's right. Stove. A flock of Seagals. With a Chinaman as our guide, we will form a pabst powered man train hell bent for gloryland. (insert criss angel joke here) I also hope to show these jerks some prime Prescott singletrack, and maybe a little black canyon trail. Their trip also coincides with the weekend that Mrs Dr and I are moving to a cabin in the woods (seriously) So it should be an interesting month, followed by camping in Utah and the Whiskey 50 in april. Holy Shit. BTW should I be worried if I had a 3 pounder this morning?
More to come us events unfold. Until then, fuck you
As March rolls around the days are getting longer and anticipation is high, for many great things are only days away. As you may remember that jerk ass jerk Nico Toscani came here last year to wreak havoc on the Sedona Big Friggin Loop (I'd put a link, but seriously it is just a couple of posts down, just scroll down) Many things hampered our planned Team Seagal domination. I was reduced to hiking a couple of weeks before the race, and Toscani got a little turned around and blocked by a river. This year we are going back, with reinforcements in the form of a healthy collar bone for me, a charged GPS battery for Toscani, and Stove. That's right. Stove. A flock of Seagals. With a Chinaman as our guide, we will form a pabst powered man train hell bent for gloryland. (insert criss angel joke here) I also hope to show these jerks some prime Prescott singletrack, and maybe a little black canyon trail. Their trip also coincides with the weekend that Mrs Dr and I are moving to a cabin in the woods (seriously) So it should be an interesting month, followed by camping in Utah and the Whiskey 50 in april. Holy Shit. BTW should I be worried if I had a 3 pounder this morning?
More to come us events unfold. Until then, fuck you
Sunday, July 4, 2010
We're Back!!!!
Well ladies and jerks, It has been some time now, exactly three months to be exact, since I last posted. This time I am bearing much less sinister news. No new tale of horror and carnage, no incredible injuries to report. Instead I have come bearing tales of recovery and althletic supremacy like none ever told.
Mrs. Doctor has healed nicely from her encounter with the pavement and has been doing some running in preparation for a 10k trail run. That run happened yesterday, way too early in the morning (it started @ 6:30) and Mrs. Doctor crushed it, she even got 6th in her age group. Pretty good for her first race.
Mrs. Doctor has healed nicely from her encounter with the pavement and has been doing some running in preparation for a 10k trail run. That run happened yesterday, way too early in the morning (it started @ 6:30) and Mrs. Doctor crushed it, she even got 6th in her age group. Pretty good for her first race.
Here's some pics of the last climb:
And shortly later crushing the finish:
Nice work Mrs. Doctor!!
As for me, I have been officially released to full activity by my Doctor (sometimes doctors have doctors too) I had already been on the road bike for a few weeks before he cleared me, in fact my first couple rides back were with the amazing Lt Colonel Austin Travis, in with Mrs. Lt Colonel to see the Grand Canyon. They popped in for a few days and took in the sights, sounds, and smells of Prescott on their way through to the Canyon. Unfortunately we had to work and couldn't go with them, but it was good to see them and good to ride with a fellow Seagal, who by the way is still incredibly fast, in spite of not having ridden all winter. I think he might be a machine, like a T-2000 or something. I have been riding a lot ever since, going for a couple 3 to 4 hour mtb rides a week and then this is what I do:
That's right.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
How much for the training wheels?
Good day Jerks! As anyone that reads this page knows, I broke my collar bone in a bike crash about a month ago. Everything seems to be healing up pretty well, although I still don't have a whole lot of range of motion in my left arm, and it still gets pretty sore by the end of the day. Hopefully I'll be back on the bike in another week or so.
Now to the current events, or more specifically the events of this past Tuesday. Mrs. Doctor, having the day off, had a couple cups of coffee with me before she gave me a ride to work. Her plans for the day included a bike ride up to Thumb Butte, a nice 5 mile climb into the pines that she does pretty regularly. The road is narrow and curvy, but in decent enough shape, and not too heavily travelled on an average weekday morning. Mrs Doctor crushed it up to the top of the climb, making it in about half an hour from our door step. This is when the situation began to deteriorate. She had begun the descent back into town, enjoying the fine morning northern Arizona was having. She moved toward the side of the road to make rooom for a passing car. Slightly miscalculating where the edge of the pavement was, she went off the edge into the narrow gravel shoulder. As she steered to get back on the pavement, the edge caught her front tire, sending her over the handlebars.
Around this time I was at work trying to do some catching up. Since my injury, things had gotten a little backed up. I got a worried sounding phone call from Mrs. Doctor, saying only "I think I hurt my self." She told me she had just crashed and cut herself and couldn't tell how bad it was. I was at work, on foot. The jeep was at the house, a two and half mile walk away. I hitched a ride with a customer for about half of it, walked the rest and got in the jeep only to find the fuel light on. By the time I got gas and made it Mrs. Doctor she had been hanging out on the side of the road for about 40 minutes since she had called me.
The cut was on the back of her elbow, so she couldn't really see it . This was probably a good thing. Apparently she had put her arm in front of her face as she crashed and slid a little bit down the pebble and sand covered, cheese grater style asphalt, putting a massive gash in her elbow and then packing it full of gravel. The wound was six to seven inches long, a narrow slit at the beginning on the back of her forearm spreading to a two inch wide, chewed up gravel filled mess on the back of her elbow. I couldn't believe it. I made her show it to me three different times as I was loading her bike in the jeep. It was so massive and just filled with dirt. Wearing one of the original black and white Seagal jerseys, and showing a stunning display of superior attitudde and superior state of mind, Mrs. Doctor calmly asked "Do you think we can just put some butterflys on it?" Trying not to show my surprise at the severity of the wound, I told her she probably needed a couple of stitches and to have them clean it out.
We arrived at the emergency room a short time later. I snapped a couple of pics on my cell phone in the parking lot and we went in, making her the second person to visit the ER in a Seagal jersey in a month's time. I can't get the pics off the phone onto the computer, so this post treatment shot will have to do:
Now to the current events, or more specifically the events of this past Tuesday. Mrs. Doctor, having the day off, had a couple cups of coffee with me before she gave me a ride to work. Her plans for the day included a bike ride up to Thumb Butte, a nice 5 mile climb into the pines that she does pretty regularly. The road is narrow and curvy, but in decent enough shape, and not too heavily travelled on an average weekday morning. Mrs Doctor crushed it up to the top of the climb, making it in about half an hour from our door step. This is when the situation began to deteriorate. She had begun the descent back into town, enjoying the fine morning northern Arizona was having. She moved toward the side of the road to make rooom for a passing car. Slightly miscalculating where the edge of the pavement was, she went off the edge into the narrow gravel shoulder. As she steered to get back on the pavement, the edge caught her front tire, sending her over the handlebars.
Around this time I was at work trying to do some catching up. Since my injury, things had gotten a little backed up. I got a worried sounding phone call from Mrs. Doctor, saying only "I think I hurt my self." She told me she had just crashed and cut herself and couldn't tell how bad it was. I was at work, on foot. The jeep was at the house, a two and half mile walk away. I hitched a ride with a customer for about half of it, walked the rest and got in the jeep only to find the fuel light on. By the time I got gas and made it Mrs. Doctor she had been hanging out on the side of the road for about 40 minutes since she had called me.
The cut was on the back of her elbow, so she couldn't really see it . This was probably a good thing. Apparently she had put her arm in front of her face as she crashed and slid a little bit down the pebble and sand covered, cheese grater style asphalt, putting a massive gash in her elbow and then packing it full of gravel. The wound was six to seven inches long, a narrow slit at the beginning on the back of her forearm spreading to a two inch wide, chewed up gravel filled mess on the back of her elbow. I couldn't believe it. I made her show it to me three different times as I was loading her bike in the jeep. It was so massive and just filled with dirt. Wearing one of the original black and white Seagal jerseys, and showing a stunning display of superior attitudde and superior state of mind, Mrs. Doctor calmly asked "Do you think we can just put some butterflys on it?" Trying not to show my surprise at the severity of the wound, I told her she probably needed a couple of stitches and to have them clean it out.
We arrived at the emergency room a short time later. I snapped a couple of pics on my cell phone in the parking lot and we went in, making her the second person to visit the ER in a Seagal jersey in a month's time. I can't get the pics off the phone onto the computer, so this post treatment shot will have to do:
The ER staff were shocked by how bad it was, their surprise was not well hidden in their reaction. It took about two hours of scrubbing and flushing the wound out with this wicked looking suction device to get all the gravel and sand out. She ended up with 21 stitches, they had to trim the jagged edges off of the wound to have something to sew up, mostly around the elbow area where the wound was widest. Mrs Doctor , in true Team Seagal fashion, took it like a champ. There is no crying in a Seagal jersey. There does seem to be a fair amount of crashing.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
East Meets West
Good day to all you jerks out there. This past weekend has brought another awesorme turn of events for your Doctor friend. Many of you may already be familiar with our New East Coast Syndicate, which is comprised of a gentleman named C-Dubbs and several of his compatriots. Those of you intertube savvy enough to have followed our blorg in the comments section of Robort's blorg, which eventually morphed into the jenkem cycles page, will possibly feel that you already know too much about Mr. Dubbs. I am going to tell you more anyway.
Dubbs, Top Chef, and Griffin travelled all the way from New York City to come get some Sedona, and get some they did. They managed to do some cross country epic type riding, some super techy all mountain slickrock style riding, and even a little downhill. They stayed at a sweet little townhouse style resort called the Red Agave, and if you evar find yourself out this way I would suggest that you stay there. There was a trail head literally 20ft from the back door of their cabin. On top of that the place had a pool, a bonfire pit, and they provide smores ingredients. My fragile mind was blown. Here is a pic of Top Chef and Griffin perfecting their toasted open face samoan sandwich technique.
Dubbs, Top Chef, and Griffin travelled all the way from New York City to come get some Sedona, and get some they did. They managed to do some cross country epic type riding, some super techy all mountain slickrock style riding, and even a little downhill. They stayed at a sweet little townhouse style resort called the Red Agave, and if you evar find yourself out this way I would suggest that you stay there. There was a trail head literally 20ft from the back door of their cabin. On top of that the place had a pool, a bonfire pit, and they provide smores ingredients. My fragile mind was blown. Here is a pic of Top Chef and Griffin perfecting their toasted open face samoan sandwich technique.
Knowing that these jerks were going to be up to no good, Mrs. Doctor and I hopped into the Jeep and pointed it towards Sedona via Mingus Mtn and Jerome. The road up and back down Mingus is incredibly narrow, twisty, and very scenic. There is a lot of exposure, particularly when you start descending into Jerome, which is an old mining town turned tourist trap positioned precariously on the back side of mingus at about 6,000 feet. (The road over Mingus tops out at a little over 7,000 feet.) Here is a pic taken through the very dirty windsheild of the Jeep.
and here's one from above:
Once safely down the back side of Mingus, we were only about a half hour from our destination, and the formal christening of the East-West alliance. It is interesting to note that I only know Mr. Dubbs from teh intertubes, we have never met in person. Seagal soldiers NicoToscani and Gino Fellino did some riding and some drinking with Mr Dubbs at the Mohican 100 two years ago and began premliminary negotiations, in the chinese, to spread the Seagal philosophy nation, possibly even world wide. During our meeting Dubbs made the observation that we are similar to the Hell's Angels in that we now have full on chapters, or at least fellow members in several states. World domination is certainly near.
We arrived to find Mr Dubbs and Top Chef drinking some hoppy brews out on the patio of the cabin, known as Moctezuma's Castle. We sat and joined them and found them to be swell fellows. We were soon joined by Griffin and his cousin from Phoenix when they returned from the store with more IPAs and some pretty amazing steaks. Top Chef proceeded to show us how he got that name, the steaks were amazing. Watching them make dinner was pretty entertaining as well, these guys are pretty jovial and animated, real Seagal style jerks all the way. Just look at 'em:
After a Top Chef steak dinner, blueberry pie, and a few IPAs, a dialouge broke out, in the chinese of course. The dialect I was speaking was a little less consice than any of us was used to, but still got the point across. We then headed to the bonfire pit for some toasted open face samoan sandwiches. It was great to meet jerks such as these, fine examples of Superior Attitude, Superior State of Mind. Hopefully I will be able to do some riding next time they make it out to the wester-regions, And hopefully some of you other jerks make it out this way. Bitches.
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