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Bikes. Parts. Chaos.

Okay, it’s not the bike.  The bike can make me anything that I’m not.  I know that.  How could I not, I seem to not shut up about it.  But there are some bikes that seem to bring the Hyde to the forefront, and lock that sweat old Jekyll away in a closet never to be heard from again.

The Krampus is one of those bikes that have that affect. 

Left side view of a green Surly Krampus bike, leaning on a boulder with larger ones around it, in a forest clearing

Some folks call it “confidence inspiring.”  That’s the quality that a bike can have that makes you feel like you’re way better a rider than you actually are.  So you push yourself a bit extra hard and try to get just a little bit more air, and pedal hard on the downhill to gander just a tiny bit more speed, cuz, how would it be fun if you didn’t.  Then out of no where your on your face with a big pointy boulder having made it’s way through your helmet and smashed up your head a bit so it’s bloody and cool and shit.  All of this because of that extra bit of confidence that the “bike” magically gives you.

Actually, I don’t think I crashed because of the confidence, it was long gone before I actually crashed.  The confidence got me into a situation, then it bailed.  But that’s the cool thing about getting back on the horse after face planting on a death rock, you have a tiny bit more confidence than before cuz of not dying the last time.

Thus the cycle is born.

Headshot of a person with a beard and a bloody scrape above their right eye

Ride, rinse, repeat (always repeat) and after you fall, get back up (mostly to make sure your bikes okay, that shit’s expensive.)