Some interesting stuff there in that video. Not certain why, but single track is a lot more fun than riding a wide open fire trail. There's definitely the perception out there that bikers are really bad for the environment, hikers, society, et al. I know when I'm out there, I try to go out of my way to smile and be extremely courteous to anyone I encounter. I'm generally met with the same behaviour. The horse riders are notoriously anti biker and I hit them with my best. I will often come to a complete stop even if they tell me their horse is okay with me passing. Hopefully some of this, in time, will change the us versus them mentality that exists today. One line in that video that is complete and total bullshit is the line about if you give the bikes one or two trails, they'll ride others. On Donner Summit a few years ago, there was a real issue with bikers poaching the Pacific Crest Trail. Instead of stepping up law enforcement to ensure that nobody rode the trail, the good folks up there in the mountains decided to cut in a trail close the the PCT called Hole in the Ground. It accesses all the same terrain and features all the same vistas. And low and behold, the incidences of people illegally riding the PCT has dropped dramatically. Some of the Tahoe Rim Trail that was once designated for hikers only has now been opened up on a limited basis to bikers. In other states (Utah for one), trails are open to bikers on certain days of the week. Hikers can still hike on those trails but they need to keep an eye out for bikes. Bikes must still yield, but they get to ride. Maybe someday we will be seen as people that like to get out in nature just as much as the next guy. Maybe we will be seen as people that pay taxes for land use just like everyone else. Maybe someday we will be able to sit at the lunch counter or ride in the front of the bus...or...wait a minute, maybe I'm getting carried away here.

Anyway, the point is, I'm headed to Truckee tomorrow (after a little stop in Williams) for a week with the family and the Griffociraptors. Looking forward to riding the dirt until my eyeballs fall out, boating with the kids, rafting, fishing, eating and drinking. I'll log in from up there with reports. In the meantime, c'mon people now, smile on your brother, everybody get together, try to love one another right now. Can't hurt.

Johnny GoFast

Okay, I think I'll start today's post out with the word "okay". That's the way my daughter has been starting her sentences, and I think it's kind of cool. Please note Mom: I did not use her name. For those of you reading along at home, my mother has expressed concerns about using real names within my blog. She's concerned that I'm going to get sued for libel. If my readership ever gets that full, I will have arrived. Anywho, I don't think anything I say here regarding my complete and total domination of Steve Griffiths can be used in a court of law if it is all true.

Get on with the post, you scream? Alright then, let's begin. The photo from above is from a team time trial that I was privileged to be a part of yesterday evening. The deal is run by the Fightin' Bobas team on a loop near Petaluma. As it was our first foray into this type of thing, we had many questions upon our arrival. First, "what the hell is a Fighting Boba," we inquired of the first Boba to cross our path. Apparently there are a ton of stories (all of them long). The dumbed down version involves a goat and an extremely lonely Boba, apparently. Other questions involved wind, and distance and direction. I didn't hear the answers to any of those questions as I was wondering why a goat and not a sheep.

The course is windy and slightly hilly. We were going so fast that it was hard to communicate with each other. When I heard somebody yelling, I just assumed that they were yelling at how large my legs looked and so I kept on mashing. We came in third, which got us some kudos from the local TTers on our first effort. More importantly, we went old school with just regular bikes. First and second opted for everything aero and TTesque. It was pretty pathetic. I'm surpised they didn't wear dayglo and face shield sunglasses ala Mr. LeMond back in the day. They crushed us by four minutes. The evening was capped off by awards which were basically anything the pseudo race director needed to get rid of: stale girl scout cookies, experienced biking tights, old race t-shirts, assorted beers, etc. Smiles all the way around. It would be great if the rest of you blog heads got your crap together and came out for the finale. See: http://eteamz.active.com/FightinBobas/news/index.cfm?cat=264257 for additional details. Heavy cool factor. In the meantime: if you can't be with the one you love, love the one your with.

Johnny GoFast

Well, it's that time of year again. The annual camping trip to Felton is upon us. Normally we've attached ourselves to the whole Thomas the Tank Engine non-sense, but not this year. The kids are a little beyond that, but we will still hit the Roaring Camp to grab the train down to the Boardwalk. As usual, we will be with the Griffociraptor brood. Which is great because Griff's wife Tulip has the "thirst" as they say, and she is fun to hammer a few beers with.

Seems now the biggest thing facing me and the Griff is what weapon to bring. Originally I was thinking the road bike, but now as we near the weekend, some of that single track they have out Nicene way is calling to me like a siren. Got a call into my boy to get his thoughts. As for the rest of you, kiss the person to your left and tell them that you love them. Can't hurt unless the person to your left is a guy with a tattoo that says: Don't Kiss Me You Hippie Freak.

Johnny GoFast

A friend of mine, and frequent reader of this blog, is trying to get me to write a book. We grew up together and she thinks a view of Danville from my perspective would be a big seller. I chuckle as I write that. Anyway, below is the first page.


I moved to California in the summer of 1976. I came from Michigan where I was content to run through the woods with my buddies looking for frogs and snakes and other critters. We'd go fishing down on the Thornapple River in the summertime and snowmobiling in the wintertime. It was easy to be a kid there. California is a different animal. My first day on the playground at Montair School in Danville was shocking to say the least. All the kids were tan and strong and beautiful. I was mangy and pasty and had a fresh bowl cut my mother had given me the day before. I distinctly remember the chaos of that first recess as if it was yesterday. I knew what cuss words were having tried them out a few times back in Michigan. It was one of those things you did back in the woods where you were certain no adult would hear you. The playground in California was entirely a different landscape however. Rob Elliot ruled the four square court. He'd been held back somewhere along the line so he was bigger, tanner and better than all the rest. Later he'd be the envy of every boy in high school when not only did he come through the maturation process with a little extra in the man department (if you know what I mean), but even better, drove a Camaro. The kind that had the really cool space tape dash board. That "John Holmes" and car scored him untold amounts of gasps and dates back in the day. Probably still does. The endowment, not the Camaro. So as Rob eliminated each of his competitors, he'd revel in their dejection as they'd unleash a tremendous display of profanity in his direction. The first time I heard this language used on the playground I was horrified. My head started to spin about as if on a swivel looking for the first adult that would level the kid for displaying such horrific manners. No sooner had the words exited some poor kids mouth did Mr. O'nion, my fifth grade teacher, exit his classroom. I chuckled at the thought of this kid getting whacked on the first day of school. His parents were going to go red with anger. We'd be lucky to see that kid sitting at school the next day if he showed at all. To my shock, Mr. O'nion walked right past the offender on his way to the faculty lounge to do what ever the faculty did in the lounge at recess. And so it went for me. The innocence of my youth was vacated on the playground that day. Kids were faster here, adults didn't care, and I would have to adapt.

Page two will show us a look at hot teenage girls that smoke cigarettes on Danville Blvd. in full view of anyone driving by...

Feel free to editorialize. Careful though, writer has extremely thin skin. Hope you are well.

Johnny GoFast

I was due, I suppose. Racing in Utah is some kind of wonderful, even when a couple of flats ends your day prematurely. Went out there on Saturday for the Norba National number four. Pre-rode the course and had a grin from ear to ear. The course featured two 600 foot climbs with longish flat to downhill type sections in between. The course was mostly single track and really really fun. I watched some of the pro race on Saturday, so that was cool too. Sunday, our race went off at 8:10am. The weather was a perfect 60 degrees or so. The start went absolutely ballistic and I quickly found myself in 10th or so. I remember thinking, "oh, is this how it's going to be? Take Johnny up to altitude and watch him pop off the back?" And just as quickly as I processed that question, the pace significantly slowed and I made my way forward. The first place rider was long gone, but second through fifth was all together. I had just moved into 3rd when I felt the tire pressure in the rear going down. I run tubeless these days and I have that Stan's sealant stuff in there and I hoped that would take care of the issue. No dice. I soon had to get off and do a little inspection. When I couldn't find an obvious hole, I injected some air thinking that it would seal. With more air pressure in the tire, I wouldn't wash out anymore and I'd make it to the finish line. Wrong. I got back on the bike after about 30 seconds and I had fallen to fifth place. By the end of the second of three laps, I was back in fourth and moving on third. Unfortunately, I could feel the tire going down again. So I pulled over again and put in a tube. As I was out of air, I had to do the old "gotta a pump" routine to all the passing cyclists. After repeated failures trying to get the air into the tube including begging some spectators for additional pump/CO-2 cartridges, I finally got rolling. For about a minute. I slammed into a rock and pinch flatted next to immediately and that ended my day. I suppose when you blatantly break the rule of no outside assistance you get leveled by the karma police. Seems they're always watching. Anyway, not the result I was looking for, and I think this officially ends my 2007 mountain biking campaign. From first in the series to out like pedophilia in one slam of a rock. What are you going to do? That's mountain bike racing, I suppose.

In an effort to conquer my crashaphobia, I've already signed up for the first crits of the year. I'm doing the Lafayette team Pegasaurus crits on July 15th. My heart pounds as I type. I've also ordered some bullet proof, industrial strength, magnesium/titanium/Superman like steel reinforced handlebars. When I crit race, I've got a death grip so intense that mere (whatever my regular handlebars are made out of--I just realized I have no clue) doesn't hold up. I've also got designs on some road races in August, so all is not lost. Of course my wife, knowing that I was out of the series championship figured I'd have more time for her now. How I chuckled at that. Which didn't go well, but that's a subject for another post. Hope you are well.

Johnny GoFast

No doubt most of you hoople heads have seen my recent foray into reality television. The show was a complete success in that I haven't seen it as, my reader knows, I do not subscribe to cable television. I have seen it on a CD they sent me and the show did nothing to capture the real me. In spite of the directors/producers missing so badly, I've been contacted by numerous agents to date about certain projects, but there seems to be some problems with the contractual language I am demanding in order to sign. If you have contacts within the industry, maybe you can put some feelers out for me. See below:

John Mundelius, herein to be referred to as J-Go, will have sole rights to his image, personality, voice, body, and most specifically the parts attached thereto. In addition to the normal contingencies expected and intended under remuneration for his services upon agreement from (insert studio/production company name here), J-Go shall be entitled to the following as supplied to him by the signing (insert studio/production company name here):


1. At the start of production, Alec Baldwin shall be made available so that J-Go can kick him as hard as he can in the nuts. He will then declare that all actors are only acting and should never under any circumstance be listened to regarding anything.
2. The production company shall provide and demand that People Magazine put him on the cover of their publication at the beginning of any project. The title on the cover shall read something to the effect: Why J-Go Knows and Why You Should Listen.
3. The production company shall supply J-Go with a state of the art Winnebago with his likeness airbrushed on the side. His visitors shall visit him and state, "this thing kicks the crap out of the Madden Cruiser." If his visitors do not declare this to be a fact, the production company shall steal the Madden Cruiser for J-Go's usage.
4. The production company will declare that Scientology and Scientologists are somewhat freaky and that J-Go finds the whole thing just a little frightening.
5. Upon his request, J-Go shall be provided with tickets to any sporting event he wants. This of course will come with a bottomless cup of beer and 10 tickets for his entourage.
6. J-Go has sole rights to pick his entourage.


There's more but most of the agents stop after number six and hang up. They say they can get Danny Bonaduce for less money with not nearly as many stipulations. Danny Bonaduce couldn't paint my walls. I'll let you know when I sign and when I start my next project. I'm also thinking about my own show that will be a Dancing With the Stars cross with a Pamela/Tommy Lee video type genre. America is ready...I think.

John Mundelius also known as Johny GoFast or just J-Go

What a fabulous weekend. Went to Truckee with the wife and kids and we had a blast. Saturday I watched the boy climb all over a rock chasing a lizard that he had happened upon. Despite his determination, the lizard was never captured. The girl was equally into all the antics as well, especially the walk on Sunday along the creek with an actual beaver dam. The kids did spot plenty of other cool stuff including but not limited to: snow plant, chipmunks, skeeter bugs, the above mentioned lizard, minnows, crawdad claws and various plants. They always asks me the names of things which I am all too happy to tell them. Unfortunately, the wife always steps in with the correct answer or quickly erases any information that I've pumped into their brain. I don't know how many times I've heard her tell the children, "kids...there is no such thing as a focasia tree/bush/animal/insect. It's the word Papa uses to describe any plant/tree/etc when he doesn't know. He thinks it sounds like a name that should be used." She's right, it should be used.


Last night we stopped in to visit the Country Griffith's. Talk about green acres, they are down right country bumpkins these days. Griff has all sorts of vegetables growing and they've got real live chickens. There is even some talk about putting in a bonafide cement pond in the back yard. Griff filled me up with some of his local moonshine and we ate chicken (hey wait a minute, weren't there three chickens here when I came in?). Anyway, the kids had a blast running around in the sprinklers, riding their bikes, finding frogs, etc. Griff was snapping pictures like a mad man so I'm sure he'll have a post up soon with all sorts of flattering content. Anyway, always good to catch up with Griff and his crew. Hope you are well.

Johnny GoFast