here we go again...

a little more than 24 hours out from the start of the new year and a new journey.

i feel like i should have more trepidation or mixed feelings than i do. (i remember this from last time as well.) probably, i've just spent so much of the past few months anticipating the whole thing and discussing the design and release of the deHcade that the advent of 2022 is (almost) an anticlimax.

but that's also kind of ideal. i'd really prefer the march toward the mundane to be accelerated, because the point is to experience one fixie as my everyday. getting past the newness and excitement of it being "a thing" is part of the goal.

in terms of "newness" though, it's definitely interesting to compare the original eH from 2012 with the deHcade and see the ways in which it's circled back (pun intended).

most obviously, the guts have changed. when steve buffel and i discussed the initial eH, being able to do challenging string tricks was paramount. although i was doing plenty of stall-based stuff, a lot of it was used to weave together typical 1a elements. as a result, the og eH had a pretty wide gap (3mm) and low response for a woodie. as it broke in, the dimpled response didn't provide a ton of grip, and i usually had a totally dead duncan sticker in there to add some traction. when we produced the 1st tmbr eH, the gap got 0.5mm narrower and those holes got deeper and sharper, eliminating any need for stickers.

like the past few eH's, the deHcade's gap is 2mm at the axle. i asked colin to incorporate a version of the deep negative recess on his most recent fremont because i liked how it played. it's aggressive and can take awhile to break in, but i love the effect on response and control.

although the deHcade has an added 1mm of diameter, it's lost that twice that in width compared with the original. this drops the mass from 57g to 52g. again, that reflects a sea change in the type of tricks the 0a style really focuses on. the deHcade handles stalls, regens, flips, spins, and stop-n-go's with considerably greater ease than the original, which prioritized spinning play.

the defining feature of the eH has always been the profile of the "shoulder". from a sharp corner at the outer hub, there's a flat section which has varied by 1-2mm through the various releases before the inner hub curves toward the response. this facet has a specific tactile "flavor", and to me is what has kept the eH feeling like the eH. you really feel it on varials, balances, and fly-away somersaults.

anyway... the new year looms.

i'm not thinking of this as a resolution. i don't believe throwing fixed axle is actually "ideal" or that the 1-yo-yo-for-a-year thing reflects some lasting change i crave for myself. it's just the start of a journey - one i've walked before, but the trail grows in over a decade. it's the yo-yo equivalent of a long retreat into the mountains. when i come back out i'll have changed, but every year changes us - on some level every throw does, too. a lot of this is about HOW being intentional with what i throw affects my outlook and experience.

one thing I know going into it this time around is that come new years eve 2022, I won’t be able to encapsulate that in a pretty post.

see you on the other side.

eHrrival

 

it's weird to be back on this blog.

honestly i had no idea how to access it, but of course google makes it all too easy. just the idea of "blogging" feels about a decade old (or more), which is appropriate given the subject matter here.

10 years back, i was gearing up for my first real fixed-axle endurance experiment. one wooden yo-yo for one year. it was a thing. i'll invite you to scroll back to the entries from 2012 at your leisure.

i'm not big on numerology or the importance of anniversaries or anything like that. anytime someone asked me about repeating the 1-fixie-1-year thing, i kind of responded that it was a great experience, but i'd already done it. however, as we approached this year, and as andre, colin and i talked about a possible eH, it became more and more clear that i really did want to go back to the well and throw myself back into a single wooden yo-yo for 2022.

there's lots of "why's".

by nature, i'm someone who is most at home stripping away complexity. i have 300 or so yo-yo's, but deep down, i'd like to be someone with just a handful. (i'm also nostalgic and i attach memories of people, places, and experiences to my yo-yo's, which is why i HAVEN'T gotten rid of them en masse.) fixed axle throwing (and what i've come to think of as 0a) is also the most authentic approach to yo-yoing for me. there's no technology or moving parts to hide behind, you get feedback on clean or sloppy technique IMMEDIATELY, everyone from serious throwers, purists, luddites, cats, and kids understand and appreciate it. and even more - hidden within its limitations is an entire universe of creative space.

i also want to reflect on and remember the first journey and feel the contrast. even before 2012 i was into throwing fixed hardcore. but a lot of it was about the challenge. i'd hit gyro flops or kamikaze, or else invent new 1a tricks on wood and feel accomplished. but playing with fixed axle's strengths (stalls, regens, stop n go's, flips, balances, early grabs...) all felt really nascent and the implications were just starting to hit me as 2013 approached. this year it will be impossible to ignore the context of the past 10 years - to see the arc (as well as the future) of the weird style my friends and i have tried to establish.

there's also an elephant in the room which it would be easy and less awkward to ignore: spirituality.

fixed axle has become almost a religion for me. (i find it obscene to talk about that stuff because it generally distills to our personal life experience, but it's also really tied to why i've stuck with this). the "state of yo" may have started as a punchline on the smothers brothers, but the experience of being utterly present in play - caught in the space between wanting desperately to hit the trick and being blissfully unaware of it - has changed me over the years. i've spent so much time in that quiet space that i can go there immediately, yo-yo or not. when i'm really playing, i fall away and drop a lot of the bullshit to which i often cling. i want to know more about that state and that dichotomy, and i access it easiest with a wood yo-yo in my hand.

i promise i'm not trying to evangelize anyone. if i felt the universe unlock while i was baking artisanal bread or stacking rocks on the edge of a river, then that's what i'd be doing for 2022. so i guess partly i'm doing this to realize (or remember) just WHY i'm a yo-yo player.

the deHcade turned out great. it imbues and synthesizes SO many qualities of the various releases we've done these past 10 years, and yet it's also a brand new thing. new width, new diameter, new crazy response groove... and yet the same old wonderful feeling. All the eH's have had a certain curve on the shoulder which has just felt perfect. i don't know what kinda voodoo colin's got, but i'm pretty sure he could whittle that inner rim to hub from memory by now. it's s a strange and sacred line.

so yeah. 1 year with this yo-yo. starting in like a week.

my dad asked if i was going to try to throw all my other yo-yo's in advance. not really. i'll toss a few. kind of a goodbye. kind of a high five. and then i'll put all of em into my IKEA display rack, lock it, and hand my 13 year-old the key to hide until 12/31/22. it's one day at a time until then. one throw at a time. but newsflash: it's only ever one throw at a time. each throw its own strange eternity.

thanks for reading.