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Change without flashing cheek. (Photo: McKibillo)
Learning something new every day just ain't enough, so we rounded up a herd of pros, experts, and autodidacts; interrogated them (gently); and laid down their secrets here. Dig in to our encyclopedic array of do-it-yourself intelligence and discover the right way to climb high, fool fish, brew beer, abandon ship, get frisky in midair, and much, much more.
Brilliant tactics from Paul Lieberstein, a.k.a. Toby Flenderson, the human resources dude on NBC’s The Office:
Pop! That’s the sound of trouble on two wheels. If your clutch cable snaps, you can find yourself stranded a long way from home, in the wrong place at the wrong time. It happened to me eight years ago in Cambodia while riding a rented motorbike between Khmer Rouge and government positions after a day of negotiating for interviews with Maoist maniacs. I coasted to a stop. It was sunset, and I was ten miles from safety in a heavily mined no-man’s-land of poisonous snakes and AK- 47-toting farmers, with a bunch of murderers on my tail. You’re always told to pack a spare cable, and I did—inside my saddlebags, 6,000 miles away. In the real world, there are often no parts, few tools, and less time, so:
“It’s hard to be fearless,” says pro kayaker Brad Ludden. “That’s half the reason you do it.” But to boost your confidence in big water, use these tips:
Ah, the dog days! High beer-swilling season! Which means trips to the store, which mean getting out of the hammock, which is unfortunate—and just another great excuse to brew your own, which is why we asked BeerTown.org’s Ray Daniels, author of Designing Great Beers, to provide a delicious, foolproof summertime recipe. Inspired by Belgian witbier but with a tropical twist from West Africa, it’ll be ready to enjoy in 20 to 30 days.
5 lbs wheat-malt extract
1 oz pelletized centennial hops
1 packet dry ale yeast
1 oz grains of paradise, crushed.
Boil three gallons of water; remove from heat, add extract, stir until dissolved; add all but a quarter-ounce of the pellets, return to heat, boil while stirring constantly with a long wooden spoon for 40 minutes; add grains of paradise, remaining hops, and two more gallons of water; kill the fire. Makes five freakin' gallons (about 53 trips to the head). Kit and ingredients, with fermentation and bottling instructions, from $69.
Ever since Seoul, South Korea, native and chef Sang Yoon—a self-described beer sommelier—ditched five-star cuisine to reinvent the Santa Monica pub Father’s Office, he’s been ballyhooed for his awesome beer menu. Here are his
top summer sippers:
A creamy (oooh!), chocolatey (aaahh!), treat-your-self snack packing the perfect recovery ratios of protein, fiber, and heart-healthy fat—because you earned it (yes, I did!):
1 banana
2 tbsp natural peanut butter
3 tbsp un- sweetened cocoa
1 cup fat-free milk
3/4 cup ice
1 tbsp honey
2 tbsp flax-seed, ground
2 tbsp wheat germ, ground
Blend until smooth; makes two servings. 402 calories, 49 g carbs, 18 g protein, 19 g fat, 14 g fiber. Find more recipes in 5 Essentials for a Winning Life, by correspondent Chris Carmichael, founder of Carmichael Training Systems.
Leave the waxed stuff to the big chain stores, follow these orders from pioneering organic chef Alice Waters, owner of Berkeley bistro Chez Panisse, and hit the market prepared for action: First, look around to see what’s fresh. Have a rough idea of what you need and buy essentials first. Then see what else is ripe.
You’re an idiot. In the middle of nowhere. With a bottle but no tool with which to liberate the vino languishing within. Fret not: You can get at that good stuff. You can even choose whether to bow to thirst or decorum: Don’t overthink it; just jam the cork into the bottle, gingerly decant, and plan to drink it all that night. Too gauche for you? Then ram the butt of the bottle against a tree (trust me) until the cork rises enough for you to take the tip of a blade and pry it out little by little—in a spiral- staircase pattern, so as not to break it. Or you can keep ramming until it sticks up far enough to yank it out. Now quaff like Falstaff.
—Jeremy Spencer
Basketball at the park may do just fine without refs, but that doesn’t mean there are no rules. While playing at 200 courts across the country, and sizing up many more, for his book Hoops Nation, Chris Ballard compiled some nearly universal guidelines for interlopers hoping to fit in: Look the part by wearing basketball shoes and shorts, but don’t announce that you’re a poseur by rolling up in an NBA jersey.
You’re in a dumpy motel with no gym. Fine. Just lounge in your underwear, watch bad TV, and work out. All you need is the floor to bust out some push-ups, crunches, and squats, right? Wrong. Without proper form, you’re wasting your time. So we got EXOS founder Mark Verstegen to tell you how to make the classics count.
Notoriously fast and wily, baboons sometimes assault people, have snatched crying babies, and can open car doors.
Trouble: If you’re standing between a female and her baby, watch out—the troop will gang-attack. Neither stare nor yawn; both mean “I want to fight” in Monkey. Stay out of the way, and never, ever feed one.
Tactics: Stand, shout, and clap. Still coming? You’re holding food. Drop the Twinkie. Slowly back away. Never let them see your bum.
The bull, one of the largest mammals in the U.S., can top out at 1,600 pounds, stand six feet tall, and sport 50 pounds of antlers and six-inch hooves. This ornery ungulate has been known to kill; winter, with its tiresome snows, and autumn, when bulls are drunk on testosterone, are the most dangerous times.
Trouble: If its ears lie back, the hair on the hump of its neck stands up, or it clenches its teeth, it doesn’t like you.
Tactics: Run or get behind something big. Take off and most charges will end as bluffs. If not, says moose biologist Terry Bowyer, “you could be playing ring around the tree for 20 minutes.”
The world’s largest vegetarians are responsible for an estimated 500 deaths a year. Get one riled up and as much as six tons could be steamrolling your way at 25 to 30 miles an hour.
Trouble: You smell eau de rotting flowers, urea, and Obsession. It’s a bull in musk. Angry elephants kick up dirt, swing their trunks, trumpet, and hold their floppy ears straight out.
Tactics: Get behind something really big. Nothing around? Run. Heading down a steep hill will slow Jumbo down.
—Joe Spring
Jackson, Wyoming’s Flat Creek is to fly-fishing what Pipeline is to surfing, so you’re bound to get skunked your first time out. “It’s part of the challenge with any spring creek,” says 15-year Flat Creek veteran Ned Hutchinson, a product manager for Cloudveil fly-fishing gear. Here’s how he gets his clients beyond “the one that got away” and into that magical place where Zen, an unhealthy attachment to Izaak Walton’s The Compleat Angler, and a fluttering heart collide: When you approach the water to scout, stay away from the edge. Better yet, belly-crawl. Cutthroat congregate under the cutbanks and will spook at almost any disturbance.
Eric Simonson, co-founder of International Mountain Guides, has led trips and hired help in Africa, South America, and throughout the Himalayas. Simonson says: look around. Google, post queries on forums (thorntree.lonelyplanet.com, boards.bootsnall.com), and call reputable hotels.
So you’ve just climbed a 5.12 with a 10.0 and you’re all sweaty and hot and … OK, sometimes there’s no avoiding getting it on in that tiny bit of elevated shelter. According to one anonymous (and persuasive) climber and pro photographer (no, not Jimmy Chin), sex on a portaledge is a beautiful thing, dammit. “All models are going to be strong enough,” says … well, let’s just call him Rico, and Rico thinks Black Diamond’s roomy Cliff Cabana double portaledge ($700; bdel.com) scores highest for ethereal amore. But “when you let down the shark fin or middle dividers, you slide into a pit and can’t move much.” As with sex in a hammock, rolling around isn’t an option. Instead, choose one position (harnesses allowed) and commit; otherwise the ’ledge might get a bit tipsy. “Baby wipes also make things nicer,” he’s proud to share. TMI, Rico. TMI.
—J.D
Golden, Colorado–based pro mountain biker Nat Ross has competed solo in at least three dozen twice-around-the-clock events—todays’ preeminent endurance sufferfests—most recently winning Utah’s 24 Hours of Moab in 2006. Here are his tried and true methods for making those long, hard rides as painless as possible: check ride424.com, pick your race, and give yourself six weeks to prepare. Get your bike properly fitted to your body (see wobblenaught.com), then work in some four-to-six-hour sessions and night rides, and train after meals to get used to going hard after eating.
Your classic backhand throw is great for less intense sessions that may or may not involve doobie and bare feet. But in the hard-charging realm of ultimate Frisbee, the full-field forehand, or flick, is king. Josh “Zip” Ziperstein has won college ultimate’s version of the Heisman, a national championship while at Brown University, and a gold medal at the World Games, so we asked him how he gets 175 grams of plastic to make like a thunderbolt flung off Mount Olympus.
By Ian Frazier
The act touches on mortality. It offers a small dose of the autobiographical sadness you feel after the moving van has gone and you take a last look around the place where you used to live. Travelers who must face this experience on a daily basis should brace for it with stoutness of heart and the comfort of ritual.
First, shower. Then put on all the clothes you expect to wear that day. (Your coat may be left until right before departure.) Fill your pockets with everything you normally carry, except for the room key. Place that in a prominent spot on top of a few singles or a five, for the cleaning people or the demons of the room.
Pack your briefcase. Pack all other gear, and then your clothes. Take the suitcase out to the car first, leaving the room door ajar. (I flick the little metal-bar thing across the frame to keep it open.) Come back for your other gear. Leave your briefcase with the most important stuff last.
The slamming of car doors in the morning is the unwelcome rooster crow of the motel world, so I make it a point of honor to avoid slamming anything. Ideally, in good weather, I like to load up and leave without closing any car door more than twice. When the car is loaded, it’s time for a final look around the room. Check the closet—and always remember the little hook behind the bathroom door. (I’ve left a lot of pajamas on those hooks.) For the very last, I always get down and look under the bed. I have never once found any forgotten object there, but I always check just the same. On family trips when I was little, my father always used to do that last of all. He has been dead now for 20 years; I like to imprint on my mind the same under-motel-room-bed vista that he saw. At this moment of transience, it gives me a reassuring sense of eternity.
—Ian Frazier collects wrappers from motel soaps. His favorite is called First Date
Riding the ragged edge of your skill level is key if you want to break through in any sport, so brutal endoes, yard sales, and whippers are de rigueur. Soften those blows with a little preemptive TLC from the experts: Most mountain-biking falls occur at slow speeds, says former world champion (and eternal badass) Ned Overend, and appropriate pedal tension will help you unclip before stalling out. Going ass over teakettle? “Put your hands out,” he says. “As soon as they touch ground, recoil your arms, tuck to one side—whichever is more comfortable—and roll across your back to avoid any jolting impact to your outstretched arms or shoulders.”
—M.G.
Or the breeze, whatever. The three keys, according to Chris Carmichael, are a smooth stride, explosive power, and a strong torso. Here’s how to get them:
Make a nice black-and-white by shooting digitally in color and converting using Adobe Photoshop, advises mountaineer and photographer Jimmy Chin: “Most people make the mistake of discarding the color information or desaturating the picture,” he says. “Instead, use the channel mixer to fine-tune tone and contrast.”
When the sweetest surfing or fishing spots are way the hell down a long (vehicles-allowed) beach, do like ranger Wouter Ketel, of North Carolina’s Cape Lookout National Seashore (and don’t, like, forget to check the tides): Take a 4×4 with good clearance.
Appetizers
Chilled dungeness crab with homemade cocktail sauce; deviled eggs; prosciutto-wrapped grilled figs
Entrée
Cedar-planked wild salmon; salad of whole-grain pasta and grilled vegetables; spicy greens with fresh cherries, goat cheese, and cherry balsamic vinaigrette
Dessert
Summer-berry-and-olive-oil polenta cake; grilled peaches
Besides the fact that you’re drooling, what's so perfect about this menu? It’s a balanced recovery feast* that follows the 40-30-30 ratio of carbs to fat to protein prescribed by nutri- tionists—and is damn delicious, too. “Chefs are concerned most about taste,” says Vitaly Paley, owner of Portland, Oregon’s award-winning Paley’s Place. “This meal is varied enough in flavor to keep the palate always wanting more.”
To hit that recovery-ratio sweet spot, Paley teamed with USA Cycling coach and flavor-savvy nutrition nut Michael Manning. “The protein sources are all high-quality,” says Manning. “The majority of the fat comes from olive oil, rich in monounsaturates. This reduces cholesterol for a healthy cardio-respiratory system. The salmon is a primary source of essential fatty acids, which improve metabolism and work to reduce inflammation. The majority of the carbs are from fresh fruits and vegetables and provide superior nourishment with antioxidants and other phytonutrients, in addition to supplying fiber.”
Salivation is at hand.
—Gordy Megroz
*2,032 calories; replaces the energy burned by a 155-pound male on a 2.5-hour bike ride at an average of 17 mph.
Anyone who’s been in a real rumble will tell you it’s a far more brutal affair than your choreographed fantasies of kicking ass like Patrick Swayze in Road House. “A fight is a no-win proposition,” says Peyton Quinn, 57, self-defense instructor, former bouncer, and author of A Bouncer’s Guide to Barroom Brawling. “You either go to jail, the emergency room, the courtroom, or all three.” Thus Quinn’s first rule: Avoid potentially violent encounters. Failing that … Insults are intended to intimidate and elicit reaction. “You’re being interviewed as a potential victim,” says Quinn. don’t ignore, insult, or challenge an aggressor.
—T.S.
By David Vann
As the boat sags back on its haunches like an old horse, don’t go below. It’s your honeymoon, sure, and everything you own in this world is aboard, but you can buy new wedding bands, replacements for the wedding gifts. If you escape with your life jacket and a pair of shorts, you’re doing well.
Don’t follow the advice of your rescuers. They’ve told you, by radio, to put up your 90-foot main-sail, which will drive you through the water and sink you faster.
Don’t panic. A freak storm and a rogue wave 60 to 100 feet cracked your hull, but you’ve struggled a day and a half to defer your sinking, so now you’re going down in fine conditions, sunny, waves no more than six feet. You’ve earned this.
Don’t try last-minute heroics. Your rudder and a piece of the hull are 5,000 feet down, at the bottom of the sea. You could pull the storm jib under the boat as a patch, but the deck is rolling, your wife is starting to panic, and you might lack the sheer strength. And you’re sinking. Keep that idea forefront.
Don’t go overboard without the dinghy. You’re cutting the lines that hold it, leaning far out over the stern, then you lose your footing and your feet are kicking midair. Your wife is not happy about this, and you shouldn’t be, either.
Don’t go over the port side. Bit of confusion here. You gave the wrong orders, so now you’re at the stern with the dinghy and your wife is 30 feet away at the port rail. The boat is sinking to port and could roll over on her at any second. She’d be trapped by the pilothouse, masts, wires. You have a moment of feeling sure you’ve lost her, and you realize again (you had another moment like this off Casablanca after abandoning ship, when she fell into the water between the life raft and a 300-foot freighter) that you love her more than anything else in this world.
Don’t think you’re safe once you’ve abandoned ship. That whole sucking-whirlpool thing could be fiction, but better to paddle away. Then, when a wave flips your dinghy and you go overboard and can feel your knee is badly damaged somehow, best to open your eyes underwater and grab that dinghy line as it goes by. In the water really is not where you want to be.
—In October 2001, David Vann lost a quick million when his 90-foot ketch, Bird of Paradise, sank ten miles south of the British Virgin Islands.
Climbers, Boy Scouts, and sailors may disagree, but the trucker’s hitch—highly adjustable and capable of piano-string tightness—is the handiest knot on the planet.
—M.A.
Chef Andrew Zimmern, host of the Travel Channel’s Bizarre Foods, has put more potential contaminants in his mouth than a Manhattan raccoon: live lemon ants in Ecuador’s Napo River basin, seal stew in the Yup’ik villages of Alaska, fresh mangrove worms in Palawan . . . And yet he’s never gotten the trots while on the road. What sorcery is this? Zimmern explains: “Use the New York City hot dog theory of eating: Buy your food from the folks with the longest lines, highest turnover, and best reputations. Let your instincts guide you: Hot foods should be hot, cold foods should be cold, and anything that smells bad should be questioned. Be sure your purveyor/shop-keeper/waiter can tell you where the item is from. And remember: If it looks good, eat it!” (And, duh, drink bottled water.)
—J.D.
As you gain altitude, your red blood cells can’t hold as much oxygen, which means once you start get- ting into the thousands of feet above sea level, you may get easily winded, have a headache, and feel nauseated. Go really high—like, say, 20,000 feet and up—and your head might feel like it’s going to implode, you might puke, your lungs might fill with fluid, and you might die. Eight-time Everest summiter Dave Hahn and expedition doctor Deirdre Galbraith share some pointers on going up the right way.
Sometimes it takes more than a cell signal: Climbing in Europe and you want to keep up with that lass who offered to show you around Prague? You need a phone with GSM (Global System for Mobile), like Motorola’s new Motorizr Z3 ($250; $99 with rebates; motorola.com). You also need Telestial’s Explorer SIM Card ($59; telestial.com), with free incoming calls in 43 countries, plus just 55¢ per minute for outgoing calls.
—M.M.
Former elite road and velodrome cyclist—and now coach for hire—David Brinton has taught thousands of newbies and pros how to pedal in a pack. So before you roll with a club, master his list of essential skills with a couple of experienced (and forgiving) riding buddies: Keep your front wheel six inches to a foot behind the rear wheel of the rider ahead of you. Focus on his hips.
As peloton protocol goes, clocking the guy behind you with a loogie ties with sulfuric flatulence for the ultimate no-no. Avoid this gaffe by spitting like a pro:
Samba in Brazil, waltz in Austria, Bollywood in India, tango in Argentina, swing in the U.S., polka in Germany, reggae in Jamaica, hip-hop in Kenya, mambo in Cuba … The world is your dance floor; be not afraid. Stepping on toes in five continents over the past decade, your dedicated correspondent (and Out of Bounds columnist)
Eric Hansen has formulated a few principles that will allow you to fake it or flaunt it. Anywhere. Let them be your passport to cavort: Your goal is—always and only—to make her look good. Usually, that means not embarrassing yourself while you let her do her thing: stomp, shimmy, spin like she’s in a hair-product commercial.
By Jack Handey
The first thing you want to do, after catching a wild rabbit, is to calm the rabbit down. A panicked rabbit does not make for a pleasurable dining experience. It taints it. Pet the rabbit. Maybe say something soothing, like “Easy, Brownie, easy” (if the rabbit is brown) or “Easy, Gray Boy, easy” (if the rabbit is gray). You might just say, “Easy, little bunny.” (But, really, can’t you come up with some kind of name besides “bunny”?)
Feel the belly. It should be plump and fuzzy. But skinny is fine, too. Feel the ears. They should be soft and pink. Man, I love the ears.
If you like your rabbit spicy, try rubbing him with wild sage or wild mint.
Place the rabbit on a rock with good drainage. Next, take out a long, sharp butcher knife. Try not to let the rabbit see the knife. You may not want to look at the knife yourself, as some of them are kind of scary-looking.
Hold the rabbit down firmly with one hand. With the other hand, take a carrot out of your backpack. Still holding the rabbit, place the carrot on the rock and slice it with the butcher knife. Then feed the carrot pieces to the rabbit. If the rabbit doesn’t eat all the pieces, feel free to eat the leftovers.
Let the rabbit go. For fun, throw the knife at a tree trunk, to see if you can make it stick, like Jim Bowie or something.
(P.S. The reason you want a rock with good drainage is in case he pees.)
—Telling people how to do things is what Jack Handey loves best.
Because nothing takes the edge off like making a fool of yourself. The trick is an outfit that lets you finish with a time you can live with. Crested Butte, Colorado, mayor Alan Bernoltz has entered ski races as a sumo wrestler, a trash can, and (his personal fave, pictured) Evel Knievel, among other things, for going on 20 years. His advice: How much are you willing to suffer? If the answer’s “not much,” just wear a cape or a funny hat.
—M.M.
2007: Nashville’s I Run for Music City 5K & 10K Run/Walk (July 4; irunfortheparty.com), Seattle’s World Naked Bike Ride (July 14; worldnakedbikeride.org), Chicago’s Muddy Buddy Ride and Run (August 5; muddybuddy.com). 2008: Crested Butte’s Al Johnson Memorial Uphill/Downhill Telemark Ski Race (March 24; aljohnsonrace.com), Jackson Hole’s Pole, Pedal, Paddle (April 5; polepedalpaddle.com), San Francisco’s ING Bay to Breakers 12K (May 18; ingbaytobreakers.com).
The trick is a Speedo and two plastic grocery bags. Seriously. The Speedo is for hygiene: Think of the many (hairy, promiscuous) surfers and divers who may have tried that wetsuit on before you. Boxers and boardshorts will just bunch up and throw off the fit.
—M.A.
I live on an island off North Carolina, and I’m the freak of my neighborhood. I’m the guy who skis the beach. It started one day when I was jogging along the shore, knees and back aching. Since moving from New England, I’d missed snow and mountains, and as I stared at the flat sandbar I found myself longing for cross-country skiing, with its velvety rhythm. I looked at the sand again and thought, Why not? Step one is getting over any embarrassment. (Hey, Bill Koch, winner of Olympic cross-country silver in 1976, skied beaches in Hawaii.)
Phil Olsen, founder of Beard Team USA, which competes in the biennial World Beard and Moustache Championships, says: “Don’t shave at all for a few weeks. Allow the mustache to freely extend beyond the corners of your mouth. There will be a point when the hairs get in the way of food or drink—you’ll have to deal with that.”
—J.D.
Scraping your face with some ten-dollar, six-blade landfill fodder and calling it shaving is like squirting ketchup into hot water and calling it tomato soup. Get a safety razor: One blade, two edges, genius. The best—vintage Gillette Adjustables with nine settings—are all over eBay for cheap.
It looks pretty scary: cables, gears, chains, grease, and springs. Who wants to mess with that? But the majority of shifting issues (jumping chains, rough shifts, clacking) can be fixed fast with zero tools. So next time your shifting goes, follow these steps from cycling guru Lennard Zinn, a former U.S. National Team rider and the author of several books on bicycle maintenance:
*This holds true for most derailleurs. But some, called “low normal,” work in the opposite direction, with cable tension moving the chain away from the wheel, instead of toward it. To determine which kind you have, pull on the cable and watch which way the derailleur moves. If you have an LN, start on the largest cog and reverse this whole process.
By Wells Tower
You consider yourself a gentleman, and so it’s important, when you wake up with a stranger in your underpants one remorseful summer morning, that you manage the matter with due delicacy and grace. What complicates things is that it’s not a fellow Homo sapiens you brought home last night but a Dermacentor variabilis, which translates roughly to “moody flesh nibbler,” a.k.a. the American dog tick.
Yes, you exercised poor judgment, but it’s too late to worry about that. She’s already gotten herself attached—way, way too horribly attached—to the tenderest organ known to men. You hate to be caddish, given the intimacies you’ve already shared, but be honest with yourself: You two simply don’t have a future together. Don’t be drawn in by that transparent “Oh, but I’m so tiny and vulnerable” routine. She’s a parasite, no two ways about it. She knows she’s got a good hustle going here, and she won’t leave you alone until she’s bled you to a husk.
You both could use a drink. Pull that pint of Kentucky Gentleman out of your liquor cabinet (no need to waste the Knob Creek). Take a strong dose yourself, then tilt the lip of the bottle against your little visitor. Hold it there for 90 seconds or so. Give her a nice long slug. Never mind the sting.
Ah, now she’s feeling no pain. If her head weren’t buried in your special purpose, you’d see a little woozy smile dawning on her face. Head for the bathroom. Take out your trusty Revlon needlenose tweezers. Now get a good grip, close to the jaw, and pull. That’s a good girl. Let it go.
Now she’s gazing at you, pinched in the tweezers’ grasp, her eyes dark with the fury of the scorned. But a quick goodbye is what the occasion calls for. Grab the book of matches on the back of the commode and set her tactfully on fire.
—Wells Tower stresses that he has never hosted any other type of insect within his trousers.