About Soiled
Mt. Pleasant, Michigan
February 9, 2025
The Soiled Chamois will turn 20 years old this April. That’s 20 years longer than it should have stayed alive.
This blog’s life started in 2005 on Google’s Blogger and has been through a few different formats as a journal dedicated to my love of cycling, mountain biking, attempts at endurance mountain bike racing, and my love of “doing stuff” outdoors.
In 2009, I left my long-time job as a graphic artist at a Pittsburgh newspaper; I accepted a salary buyout in lieu of risking a layoff and, as it turns out, I left less than a year before we moved to Michigan in the fall of 2010. Not long after, the paper folded into online-only oblivion.
After I left the paper, my love of endurance mountain bike riding and racing was still strong but my abilities were waning. So, I started an online and print cycling publication called XXC Magazine, which lasted for 5 years. Along with my magazine duties, I was also home to help raise our then 6-year-old son and take some pressure off my wife, who was busy with a new job as we adjusted to life in a new state. Sadly, I never went back to work, and now I find the workplace skills I used for 25 years are obsolete, and my 2-year art school degree from 1991 is worthless. I can make a hell of a pasta bake casserole and fold laundry at the same time, though. It’s pretty impressive. I spent/spend a lot of time hating myself for this, but it is what it is.
Over the blog’s almost 20 years, health issues like multiple DVTs (blood clots) in my legs, depression, losing a friend to a drunk motorist while he was riding, weight gain, and becoming disenfranchised with many aspects of the cycling world (and the world in general) have slowed my riding down to near nothing. It’s a long story that goes back and forth and can be read about here or here. But to make that long story short, I barely ride anymore, but I hope to do it again regularly at some point before I die.
Despite no longer racing and eventually dialing my riding back, I keep this blog going as a way to host photos and keep my creativity and brain going. Yes, I could have just used a free site like Facebook, Twitter, or something else and got WAY more eyes (and unwanted ads and shitty comments) on my musings and photos, but I like routine, and I like my blog, so I keep it.
For some reason, I find that this very public blog/journal keeps me accountable and motivates me to keep “doing stuff” outdoors and stave off old age as long as I can.
My minor outdoor exploits and micro-adventures are NOT to be taken too seriously. I write with a fair share of hyperbole and strive to make the most mundane events in life something to remember for roughly one to three minutes before being properly forgotten. If I can take your mind off your workday or provide a shred of distraction from the world we live in, then I’ve done my job.
About a year ago, I had a plan to continue with this site until this April and then finally pack it it. But then, my hosting plan auto-renewed for another year, and rather than haggling with them to get money back, I will just keep going for a bit longer. For that, you have my apologies.
So, with that, Soiled (AKA The Soiled Chamois) will continue a bit longer. Welcome to my world of woodsy lumbers, attempts at nature and wildlife photography, tales of goofiness, unsolicited opinions, and my obsessions with cooking food, beer, music, and football.
We live in a world of “influencers,” YouTube “celebrities,” Reels, TikToks, Tweets, likes, shares, and Internet Trolls. My life and this blog are none of those things. I like to think of them more as cautionary tales from a moron.
Jason Mahokey
CEO and 1st Shift Supervisor in Charge of Day-to-Day Operations at Soiled Chamois, Inc.
Soiled Wiki
B-Man: My son Brennan, also known as B, Brenn, or the boy. One of the smartest, most talented kids I’ve ever met. I really can’t believe I had a hand (that’s not all!) in his creation. He was 1 when I started this blog and 21 now!
The Bed of Torment: My lumpy, creaking bed that I fart, toss, turn, lay, and hate myself in daylight hours. Unused since September 19th, 2022.
Better Than The Trainer Ride™: The rides I often do are just barely better than spending an hour on the trainer.
Better Than The Trainer? Ride™: The rides I do that fail miserably for one reason or another and leave me asking, “Was it better than the trainer?”
The Black Dog: The name that the ancient Roman poet Horace and eventually Winston Churchill gave depression. If it was good enough for Winston, it’s good enough for me. I’ve endured depression for almost my entire life but didn’t seek help until I was in my late 30s, and I didn’t start therapy until I was in my late 40s! I can’t stress enough how important it is to reach out for some help. If your doctor won’t listen, get a new fucking doctor. It’s never too late to start feeling better or to work on being a better person.
The Boone: My Trek Boone cross bike that never races cross. Why do people keep getting off their bikes again? Sold years ago.
Mr. Burgundy: My Trek Checkpoint gravel bike. Currently on an unused trainer in the basement.
Cameras: Nikon Z6, Nikon z50 (used), Nikon D4 (used), Canon s95, and Fuji X70 (used) digital cameras are all currently in rotation.
Cat 5 Cooking: I’ve always been the cook of the family; it’s also a hobby and what keeps my waistline expanding. #Cat5Cooking
Comments, None: I don’t have time, or care, to track spam, reply to people, or deal with it. Plus, NEVER READ THE COMMENTS!!
The Chamber of Farts: Our spare bedroom that I am often banished to due to my constant gas passing. Now Wifey’s home office with 99% less farting.
Cul-De-Sac-Shack: Our home, which is located in, you guessed it—a cul-de-sac.
Doing Stuff: Mostly sitting, staring into space, but also includes: cycling, hiking, running, lumbering, weight training, Jazzercise, and competitive masturbation.
The Dirt Road Launching Pad: The varying locations I start my gravel rides or tramps to avoid cars looking to smash me dead. Usually a county park or rail trail parking lot.
The Fatterson: My beat-to-shit Trek Farley fat bike that is in need of a makeover. Sold years ago.
The Fred: Better known as The Fred Meijer Heartland Trail. A 42-mile paved rail trail in mid-Michigan that I sometimes utilize to access dirt and gravel loops.
Football, Footy, Footie: Known as soccer to most of America. I love watching it, B-Man loved playing it, and I loved watching B-Man play it. It’s the best, and I often structure my whole weekday around 3 PM kickoffs in the States.
The Hammer: The CycleOps direct drive trainer in the Not So Stankment. It’s 99% unused.
The Jacques: Better known as The Pere Marquette Rail-Trail (PMRT). Named after Father Jacques Marquette. I sometimes utilize the trail to access dirt and gravel loops in the Clare, Michigan, area.
Jake The Dog: Our ancient, snoring, farting, slobbering English Bulldog. Jake passed away on December 20th, 2024 at the age of 13.
Lola: The newest member of our canine family. Yes, another English bulldog.
Lumbering: Hiking at a pace just below a jog or run.
Me: see the intro above.
Michiganderburgh: The mythical–made up–rural Michigan landscape in which I rode my bike and now hike through. Often better than the reality.
Mindbender, The O.G. Mindbender, Mindbender II, The Wrath of Kahn, Mindbender III, A New Hope: The therapist(s) that I’ve been seeing for years now. The O.G. has done wonders to help me fend off and deal with the shame, ridicule, fear, and guilt that I grew up with and brought into adulthood.
The Not-So-Stankment: Years ago, we had a house with a cold, crap basement: it was the Stankment. Now we have a pretty nice crib with a finished basement. Thus “Not-So”.
The PrOcal: My Trek Procaliber 9.8 SL. An amazing mountain bike that sadly doesn’t see too much singletrack anymore. If you want to buy it, you can. SOLD!
Politics: I try not to give a fuck, but I’m pretty sure it’s apparent that I hang to the left.
Religion: To quote Conan O’Brien, “Silliness is my religion.”
Roscoe, The Roscoe: The 27.5+ bike I picked up in June of 2020 when I thought I might mountain bike again. It now goes unused.
The Shop: Terry’s Cycle in downtown Alma, Michigan. I’ve been going there since we moved here. I’ve also done some graphics work and web design for them and used to work the register a day or so a week now and then whilst trying not to fuck things up.
Town: Mt. Pleasant, Michigan, is where I currently reside. Oddly enough, I was born in Mt. Pleasant, Pennsylvania. There isn’t a mountain in sight.
Wifey: My wife of 27 years and counting, the brains and ginger-haired, bosomy law-slinging bill-paying bacon bringer of the family. She’s the smartest, kindest person I’ve ever met.
WPA: Western Pennsylvania. The land of partly cloudy skies, rain-soaked summers, fatalism, traffic, bad accents, and yinzers. Also the land in which I am originally from. I avoid it as much as possible now. It’s not them; it’s very much me.
Final Notes: Lastly, I write like a depressed 10th-grader with a diary, and I’m sure many folks find it annoying and a bit nauseating. Just remember, I hate me WAY more than you EVER possibly could. I also swear a lot because I do swear a lot. If you don’t like it, don’t read it. That’s cool with me; I know I wouldn’t read it.