The Fargo has evolved a bit since I first built it as I try to figure out where it fits in my stable. The original intent was to bolt on a bunch of racks and haul stuff—commuting, camping, grocery runs, pulling my son on the trail-a-bike. I purposely used a straight post and short stem for a more upright position. It didn't take long, though, before the racer in me felt that I could get more power with a setback seatpost. A narrower, racier saddle soon followed. Then a longer stem to stretch me out. Before I knew it the bike became my main ride, and . . . now I don't know that I want racks on it. It's just too fun to blast around on; it's like a cyclocross bike on steroids.
Here's how the bike is currently set up:
I came upon this poor acorn woodpecker on a dirt road. He flew up as I approached, but could only fly in tight circles before crashing back to earth. When I was close enough, I could see that his neck was messed up. I couldn't really do anything for him. What he needed was a good chiropractor. I briefly thought about putting him out of his misery, but I don't have the stomach for that. Hopefully he got the kinks worked out and is destroying someone's oak tree tomorrow.
The last dirt section was the New York Creek trail, which is always fun:
I was out for almost two hours. I'll know tomorrow when I wake up if I overdid it today. Hopefully I won't need my lungs pumped.
Later.
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