Category Archives: singlespeeding

umabomber.com screenshot home

Goodbye VeloDevi. Helloooo Ümabomber.

Dear Fans, Friends and Frenemies, I have good news and bad news. First the bad news. The VeloDevi is dead. Long live the VeloDevi.

umabomber.com screenshot home

Goodbye VeloDevi. Helloooo Ümabomber.

Dear Fans, Friends and Frenemies, I have good news and bad news. First the bad news. The VeloDevi is dead. Long live the VeloDevi.

Climbing Homestead Road to the trailhead.

Haters Gonna Hate. Riders Gonna Ride.

Maybe it was finally being healthy enough to ride. Or maybe, just maybe it was all that hard work I did last fall, working on my technical skills. Or maybe I absorbed ninja superpowers subconsciously while watching all those the Kung Fu movies while I was laid up, feeling evil due to lack of inactivity…

Climbing Homestead Road to the trailhead.

Haters Gonna Hate. Riders Gonna Ride.

Maybe it was finally being healthy enough to ride. Or maybe, just maybe it was all that hard work I did last fall, working on my technical skills. Or maybe I absorbed ninja superpowers subconsciously while watching all those the Kung Fu movies while I was laid up, feeling evil due to lack of inactivity…

Surveyor's Ridge trail loverlooking Mt Hood National Forest

Beer, Bacon, Bourbon and God

If God lives inside me (like some people say) I hope he likes beer. And bacon. And bourbon. Of course, it’s possible what I consider a fondness for beer, may in fact be a case of God pulling my strings. That’s it! God makes me crave delicious dry hop Northwest IPAs and craft bourbons! Or maybe Hopworks spikes their beer with crack and God is really a crackhead. Either way…I WIN!

Surveyor's Ridge trail loverlooking Mt Hood National Forest

Beer, Bacon, Bourbon and God

If God lives inside me (like some people say) I hope he likes beer. And bacon. And bourbon. Of course, it’s possible what I consider a fondness for beer, may in fact be a case of God pulling my strings. That’s it! God makes me crave delicious dry hop Northwest IPAs and craft bourbons! Or maybe Hopworks spikes their beer with crack and God is really a crackhead. Either way…I WIN!

The Umabomber racing Mt Tabor

The Birth of The Ümabomber

Once upon a time in a New York City far, far away I was a bike messenger. I rode a red and yellow Huffy mountain bike that weighed about 45 pounds and rode like a Sherman tank. It was not fast, not cool, and definitely not hip. In fact the “hipster” hadn’t been invented yet; no one rode fixed gear bikes with sawed off handlebars. There was no scene to it. It was just stupidly risky, fun work that kept one in amazing shape if one managed not to die on the job. I managed not to die.

The Umabomber racing Mt Tabor

The Birth of The Ümabomber

Once upon a time in a New York City far, far away I was a bike messenger. I rode a red and yellow Huffy mountain bike that weighed about 45 pounds and rode like a Sherman tank. It was not fast, not cool, and definitely not hip. In fact the “hipster” hadn’t been invented yet; no one rode fixed gear bikes with sawed off handlebars. There was no scene to it. It was just stupidly risky, fun work that kept one in amazing shape if one managed not to die on the job. I managed not to die.

Dear Fruita (The Breakup Letter)

Dear Fruita: The past few years spending time with you has been great and all, but I’m writing to tell you we’re breaking up. Its not you. It’s me. Or rather, it’s Bend. And more specifically, it’s Phil’s trails. And

Dear Fruita (The Breakup Letter)

Dear Fruita: The past few years spending time with you has been great and all, but I’m writing to tell you we’re breaking up. Its not you. It’s me. Or rather, it’s Bend. And more specifically, it’s Phil’s trails. And