I have been on a hiatus of sorts. I had thoughts of posting that I wouldn’t be posting in awhile but that would be a post and would therefore negate the fact that I wasn’t posting. So I decided not to post that.
If you followed that penultimate sentence, congrats to you!
I had three pages of material typed up last week, I read them over and over again and realized how negative it all sounded and decided to just not post for a bit. Get over it, I am back and it isn’t revenge I am seeking, it is the reckoning.
I will give a brief description of how I felt on a big ride from two weekends ago where we parked at N. Mills River and dropped into Bent Creek for a look-see at our sections on Green’s Lick and came back.
The ride for me, can be described with two words “Extreme Paranoia.” I was not confident on the bike after 10 days of being off of it and because of this, I failed to notice that my back wheel had lost all of its tension. Instead of noticing this small fixable problem, I went on a paranoia binge to hell and back. Every trail intersection, I was flipping the bike over, inspecting for cracks. Every moment of the day riding was spent wondering if I would die on the next pedal stroke.
Whew, that is much better; I mellowed down three pages of paranoia to one paragraph. AWESOME!
This past Wednesday, we had an awkward moment at our Wednesday night ride. When we all arrived, one deceased man was being taken out from Fawn Lake. Rumor has it that the unfortunate soul had a heart attack while swimming and rescue efforts took too long due to the remoteness of the area.
With no disrespect, the day turned into an awesome ride of the newly re-opened Burnt Mountain. We even saw one of the trail masters himself riding the trail. After ZB discovered my tensionless problem and helped to rectify it, I got some good feelings from the Gods of dirt and rock and really started feeling like a Mountain Biker again. I even felt good enough to launch the bike into the air a few times and received some “props” from our fellowship.
Now we can get down to the talk of extreme trail "K"arma because if you participated in National Trails Day, that’s what you have for exactly one week. Thanks to the organizational powers of Ben B., we were able to manage 120 volunteers from all over to re-vamp Green’s Lick. It is really hard to even begin to describe what happened to this trail. Tons of Locust cell rock armoring on the steep top sections, I think I counted 20 something rock cells at the top combined with some tight berms and even a couple extremely ambitious rock armored berms.
Mike Brown and I worked together with a killer group that helped take care of a flat boggy ditch section. With two rocks I picked out and another huge rock Mike picked out, we created a nice lounge chair TTF that might send you into the air if you were so inclined to take the incline sending you over a small culvert of rock. The direct line is flat rock through the ditch or crick if you please.
Adam worked with a bunch of folks on the last feature of the trail. It was a three-way street of jumps. The left side being the most difficult with a nice table top that leads into a ginormous dirt and rock berm. Early in the morning, Adam and I walked up and took a look only to discover that one tree would have to be taken out. Yes, it was that big. When I saw how perfectly this jump was formed at the end of the day, I had to hit it and hit it I did. The first attempt I didn’t have enough speed and my front wheel hit the landing but the back wheel hit the flat table top and that put me into a nose wheelie down the back side. I pedaled back up and pushed the speed as fast as I could this time landing in the fall line zone about six feet past my landing on the first jump.
That jump along with three beers from the Mayberry cooler had my stoke high enough for me to pedal back up Bent Creek Road to the parkway. Dennis had secured us the last free camping spot along Wash Creek road and that was my destination as I had pedaled to the work party at 6 in the morning earlier that day. Now it was 5:00PM and a cold rain was slapping me in the face as I had my revenge on the climb up to the parkway. A week before, I walked a good bit of this climb.
Once I was at the parkway, with 0 hours of sleep the past night and a full day of trail work under my belt. I knew I wasn’t a candidate for soloing up the Blue Ridge Deathway to get to Trace and ultimately our campground. I pedaled up to the parkway, watched three cars go by at 50+ MPH and decided I would pedal down Wash Creek Road and back up Spencer to get to Trace. I am finally getting a little fitness back and I was at the top of Trace in no time. I had contemplated going down Spencer but I knew that steep + tired + wet + rocks + solo was a semi bad idea so I came down Trace. It was awesome and I dedicate this descent to my friend Mike R. who recently went down hard out in Pisgah and will be living vicariously for a few months while he heals. Best of luck Mike!
Saturday night was low-key as the non-trail-karma people arrived via road bike after some measly little road ride that took them for a 120 mile jaunt through South and North Carolina, WUSSIES. We were all beat, especially those who didn’t sleep the night before because of redneck wannabe cowboys. I slept though all of their cat calls on Saturday night as well as the dogs.
Clay and I decided to push karma up another notch and lead a SORBA ride on Sunday. May-duh had planned out 11 or 12 rides for the day so we volunteered to lead/sweep the Farlow Gap ride. It only made sense.
We pulled up and to our surprise we found no-one joining us, in fact there wasn’t a single bike on or off a vehicle at Daniel’s Ridge. Eventually Jut and Chris joined us for our trip. We took the back way to the top of Farlow with a side trip to Courthouse falls so we could listen to 10 screaming 8 year old girls as they plunged into the icy waters on a cool June day. I really can’t wait for August so I don’t have to keep wearing my knee warmers.
Clay and I were both suffering pretty hard. Jut is a super-human partying riding machine. That’s all I have to say about that.
My ride was pretty tame, I tried fooling with the ERGON angle on my grips right before the descent down Farlow, CAN YOU SAY STOOOPID?
So I had to stop a couple times and re-adjust, I walked a lot. My only highlight was actually making the log bridge huck towards the bottom. Clay helped a little providing Kodak courage.
The only other interesting note was the trail maintenance I did on Farlow. There was one super steep pitch that Jut wanted to clean so I hiked down to capture this occasion with ones and zeroes in the form of digital photography. I found a nice ½ ton rock to sit on and got my camera out. As I was taking a picture the earth started moving faster than normal. I stood up only to realize that this gigantic boulder was only precariously holding onto its position. It teetered and I warned all around not to get in the path of this beast. After Jut cleaned the section, I was putting my pack on when I heard the inevitable, gravity had won over this rock. Luckily only trees and creeks were harmed in the fall. Clay said “Wow, luckily you weren’t sitting on it.” Yeah luckily.
I hate posting without visual aid but I have been hounded for not posting. I will add some visual delights sometime soon.
Monday, June 09, 2008
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Opossum Attack
Most dogs are domesticated, nice friendly creatures, ours are the same but we have to remember that they are still animals.
On Friday night at Lake Barkely, Kristin and I were sleeping outside under the back deck on an air mattress due to a nice night and a full house. Buddy and Shade were sleeping next to us but free to roam.
Before bed, it had been one of those nights that you have with your best friend when you haven’t seen each other in awhile. Playing guitar and singing until our eyes, hearts and minds told us to pack it in during the wee hours. I take my contacts out; throw them in the yard (disposable) crawl onto the mattress with Kristin content with sleeping outside.
A couple hours later, I awoke to a tornado of sounds, the big bellowing WOOF WOOF that Shade can produce combined with the small yet ferocious RRRRRrrrk RRRufff, rrrrrufff of Buddy. Immediately I knew they were onto something. It was oddly lit outside, you could tell the sun was about an hour from turning the corner from the East.
In an instant, I am careening out of bed and flying around the corner of the house as I realize I can’t see anything past 10 feet in front of me, I only have my underwear on and I am quite tipsy from the night still as it must be sometime around 4:30 in the morning. The barking and growling increases exponentially as I get closer and I see that they have something trapped between them but can’t quite make it out in the dark.
You have to understand that these two dogs are such great friends that they can be barking and play biting each other’s heads during the day only to sleep with their heads nestled up against each other and now I see how well they “work” together. Shade being the big boy creates a sort of body block on the animal as Buddy dives in and around the mystery animal with moves that would have made Muhammad Ali jealous. All the time, the animal in the middle is hissing wildly and jockeying for the woods across the street which is still about 30 yards away.
The entire time this is going on, I am screaming like a madman seeing his baby snatched from his momma’s arm. Remember that I still couldn’t see well, it was dark and I had no idea what this animal was that they are so viciously going after. However, even if I would have been a Dragon breathing fire onto the ground next to them they wouldn’t have noticed. They were protecting us and the house. I am almost 100% certain they would sacrifice themselves before having the animal get close to the house.
This animal is officially trapped, Shade and Buddy’s circle of death has tightened and every now and then Buddy has an opening so he can dive in with the same head but routine he uses on Shade but this is somehow different as he grabs the animal with his jaws gives it a quick death shake before jumping back to safety.
I realize I can do nothing but harm if I intervene so I run and tell Kristin to get the leashes. When I get back they are still circling the animal but it is just lying there, I assume it is playing dead and realize that it might be an Opossum as I couldn’t imagine that any animal would give up its life that easy. Shade and Buddy are still circling. Buddy incessantly jumps in biting and shaking the lifeless animal into the air and back onto the ground. Somehow in my mind’s eye I imagine him and Shade ripping the thing apart together before they will be done.
With the animal now just lying there on the ground I am eventually able to distract the great hunters and leash them up. We all eventually lie back down with the mystery animal still lying in the side yard. Even if it wasn’t dead, I didn’t figure it would bet on coming close to our house again.
When the sunlight hit my face in the morning, I got up and walked around the side of the house to find an empty yard. It was most certainly playing dead but I imagine all Kentucky Opossum’s have been forever warned of the beasts at 52 Eden Bay.
On Friday night at Lake Barkely, Kristin and I were sleeping outside under the back deck on an air mattress due to a nice night and a full house. Buddy and Shade were sleeping next to us but free to roam.
Before bed, it had been one of those nights that you have with your best friend when you haven’t seen each other in awhile. Playing guitar and singing until our eyes, hearts and minds told us to pack it in during the wee hours. I take my contacts out; throw them in the yard (disposable) crawl onto the mattress with Kristin content with sleeping outside.
A couple hours later, I awoke to a tornado of sounds, the big bellowing WOOF WOOF that Shade can produce combined with the small yet ferocious RRRRRrrrk RRRufff, rrrrrufff of Buddy. Immediately I knew they were onto something. It was oddly lit outside, you could tell the sun was about an hour from turning the corner from the East.
In an instant, I am careening out of bed and flying around the corner of the house as I realize I can’t see anything past 10 feet in front of me, I only have my underwear on and I am quite tipsy from the night still as it must be sometime around 4:30 in the morning. The barking and growling increases exponentially as I get closer and I see that they have something trapped between them but can’t quite make it out in the dark.
You have to understand that these two dogs are such great friends that they can be barking and play biting each other’s heads during the day only to sleep with their heads nestled up against each other and now I see how well they “work” together. Shade being the big boy creates a sort of body block on the animal as Buddy dives in and around the mystery animal with moves that would have made Muhammad Ali jealous. All the time, the animal in the middle is hissing wildly and jockeying for the woods across the street which is still about 30 yards away.
The entire time this is going on, I am screaming like a madman seeing his baby snatched from his momma’s arm. Remember that I still couldn’t see well, it was dark and I had no idea what this animal was that they are so viciously going after. However, even if I would have been a Dragon breathing fire onto the ground next to them they wouldn’t have noticed. They were protecting us and the house. I am almost 100% certain they would sacrifice themselves before having the animal get close to the house.
This animal is officially trapped, Shade and Buddy’s circle of death has tightened and every now and then Buddy has an opening so he can dive in with the same head but routine he uses on Shade but this is somehow different as he grabs the animal with his jaws gives it a quick death shake before jumping back to safety.
I realize I can do nothing but harm if I intervene so I run and tell Kristin to get the leashes. When I get back they are still circling the animal but it is just lying there, I assume it is playing dead and realize that it might be an Opossum as I couldn’t imagine that any animal would give up its life that easy. Shade and Buddy are still circling. Buddy incessantly jumps in biting and shaking the lifeless animal into the air and back onto the ground. Somehow in my mind’s eye I imagine him and Shade ripping the thing apart together before they will be done.
With the animal now just lying there on the ground I am eventually able to distract the great hunters and leash them up. We all eventually lie back down with the mystery animal still lying in the side yard. Even if it wasn’t dead, I didn’t figure it would bet on coming close to our house again.
When the sunlight hit my face in the morning, I got up and walked around the side of the house to find an empty yard. It was most certainly playing dead but I imagine all Kentucky Opossum’s have been forever warned of the beasts at 52 Eden Bay.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
1,000 Push-Ups or One Stump To the Chest
So with all the bonking out of the way on Saturday, I was really looking forward to a low-key ride at Dupont with family and friends on Sunday.
A last minute plan was formed, and we corralled at Fawn Lake, some of us by bike, others by car, who rides a road bike to a mountain bike ride anyway? Weird, was it ride to your ride week last week?
Kristin and I had made it early, so I set off up Mine Mountain for a quick loner loop. As always I pronounced my religion over and over in my head “love Mountain biking, love mountain biking, love mountain biking. . . “
Quickly after that, Clay, David George (by bike), Zach (by bike) Cook and Kristin were all ready to ride. Two people were missing so we just made our way on without them.
Kristin had her first taste of what mountain biking is like when a descent sized group is involved. Heading straight up Mine Mountain to complete her second loop of:
Mine Mountain -> Airstrip -> Shelter Rock -> Corn Mill Shoals to Bridal Veil falls -> Bridal Veil Falls Road -> Barn Trail -> Shelter Rock -> Conservation Road -> Lake Julia Road -> Reasonover
WOW, that’s a pretty big loop for a second time Dupont rider!!
After Mine Mountain, I made the quick dash back to the cars to pick up Meghan and Shane. I directed them on the proper route back to everyone and we all re-grouped on the Airstrip itself.
I followed Shane down airstrip and man can he ride for a big boy on a singlespeed! I knew I would have some extra time for the log roll at the bottom of the hill. I flubbed it up a couple times but kept at it. My third attempt netted a clean shot on and off the log but when I landed my back wheel decided to spew some Stans. I aired it back up and made some rude comments to Meghan, bad Karma.
Let me set the stage here as this is quite amusing in lieu of my own safety. The log roll at the bottom of airstrip is pretty easy but also pretty easy to screw up. There are two large logs about 3 feet in circumference from the same tree running parrellel to each other. A smaller log runs parallel to the large logs off to the left but doesn’t start until ¾ of the way down the bigger logs.
There is also a stump, presumably from the same tree that sits at the end of the middle log. The stump makes a nice huck at the end of the middle log as it is the same height as the log but not attached. The middle log is set up to be roll-able on the upside and then you can either speed up and huck the 3 feet back to earth off the stump at the end or try to transition to the smaller log to roll off. Most people I know roll up the middle and huck the log/stump combo at the end..
So after my crude comment, I set up to roll the log again. I transition up onto the log nicely. I start to stand as to give the cranks a couple hard strokes so I can make a run for the end stump huck. Just as I am relaying power into the drive side pedal and pulling with some might on the handle bars, I feel the back wheel shoot off the log in-between the two large logs as I am propelled over the bike headed face first toward the stump.
Short of a miracle, I am able to stretch like Gumbi and get my face over the stump only to hit the stump chest first with all of my inertia causing the stump to roll over along with me onto the ground. I am sure it looked as though I was sumo chest flogging the stump while performing a chiropractor’s backbend delight. I flopped over onto the ground thinking I had hurt myself. After a few seconds I realized I was only bruised. At the end of the ride, Cook pointed out that you could see the outline of the stump on my chest. Monday morning it felt like I had done 1,000 push ups and tricep curls.
I did get back up and ride the damn thing again. I couldn’t let it best me like that. Never go to sleep thinking you can’t ride a log. . .
Since the small freak show had commenced, we continued on our ride. I was impressed with how much of the climb up Reasonover (coming from the lake) Kristin was able to handle. About halfway up, the storm came rushing in on us and we rode the last bit in the cold rain. Luckily, with the rain came motivation and we were back at the cars in quick time. Another great day in the woods was had by all.
My favorite quote of the day by Kristin after the ride: “Riding your bike on Reasonover is sooooooooo much faster than hiking.” I can’t wait to hear what she has to say when we ride it in the “fun” direction.
A last minute plan was formed, and we corralled at Fawn Lake, some of us by bike, others by car, who rides a road bike to a mountain bike ride anyway? Weird, was it ride to your ride week last week?
Kristin and I had made it early, so I set off up Mine Mountain for a quick loner loop. As always I pronounced my religion over and over in my head “love Mountain biking, love mountain biking, love mountain biking. . . “
Quickly after that, Clay, David George (by bike), Zach (by bike) Cook and Kristin were all ready to ride. Two people were missing so we just made our way on without them.
Kristin had her first taste of what mountain biking is like when a descent sized group is involved. Heading straight up Mine Mountain to complete her second loop of:
Mine Mountain -> Airstrip -> Shelter Rock -> Corn Mill Shoals to Bridal Veil falls -> Bridal Veil Falls Road -> Barn Trail -> Shelter Rock -> Conservation Road -> Lake Julia Road -> Reasonover
WOW, that’s a pretty big loop for a second time Dupont rider!!
After Mine Mountain, I made the quick dash back to the cars to pick up Meghan and Shane. I directed them on the proper route back to everyone and we all re-grouped on the Airstrip itself.
I followed Shane down airstrip and man can he ride for a big boy on a singlespeed! I knew I would have some extra time for the log roll at the bottom of the hill. I flubbed it up a couple times but kept at it. My third attempt netted a clean shot on and off the log but when I landed my back wheel decided to spew some Stans. I aired it back up and made some rude comments to Meghan, bad Karma.
Let me set the stage here as this is quite amusing in lieu of my own safety. The log roll at the bottom of airstrip is pretty easy but also pretty easy to screw up. There are two large logs about 3 feet in circumference from the same tree running parrellel to each other. A smaller log runs parallel to the large logs off to the left but doesn’t start until ¾ of the way down the bigger logs.
There is also a stump, presumably from the same tree that sits at the end of the middle log. The stump makes a nice huck at the end of the middle log as it is the same height as the log but not attached. The middle log is set up to be roll-able on the upside and then you can either speed up and huck the 3 feet back to earth off the stump at the end or try to transition to the smaller log to roll off. Most people I know roll up the middle and huck the log/stump combo at the end..
So after my crude comment, I set up to roll the log again. I transition up onto the log nicely. I start to stand as to give the cranks a couple hard strokes so I can make a run for the end stump huck. Just as I am relaying power into the drive side pedal and pulling with some might on the handle bars, I feel the back wheel shoot off the log in-between the two large logs as I am propelled over the bike headed face first toward the stump.
Short of a miracle, I am able to stretch like Gumbi and get my face over the stump only to hit the stump chest first with all of my inertia causing the stump to roll over along with me onto the ground. I am sure it looked as though I was sumo chest flogging the stump while performing a chiropractor’s backbend delight. I flopped over onto the ground thinking I had hurt myself. After a few seconds I realized I was only bruised. At the end of the ride, Cook pointed out that you could see the outline of the stump on my chest. Monday morning it felt like I had done 1,000 push ups and tricep curls.
I did get back up and ride the damn thing again. I couldn’t let it best me like that. Never go to sleep thinking you can’t ride a log. . .
Since the small freak show had commenced, we continued on our ride. I was impressed with how much of the climb up Reasonover (coming from the lake) Kristin was able to handle. About halfway up, the storm came rushing in on us and we rode the last bit in the cold rain. Luckily, with the rain came motivation and we were back at the cars in quick time. Another great day in the woods was had by all.
My favorite quote of the day by Kristin after the ride: “Riding your bike on Reasonover is sooooooooo much faster than hiking.” I can’t wait to hear what she has to say when we ride it in the “fun” direction.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Laurel, Pilot, Slate, BONK!!
My mental fortitude has been a little off lately. My body and mind are warring parties and I am no mediator. A small bowl of cheerios is plenty of food for a 20 mile ride right?Zach and I had planned for a later start than normal on Saturday. I rolled up to N. Mills River to see that Zach was already sweating. What the hell? What do you mean you rode Trace Ridge? You think you want to get in shape? Jerk.
After some lulling around and me pretending to wait for our lost long compadre SingleTrack Pig, I got ready to roll. Just as we were ready to head off, Chris shows up out of nowhere from Columbia, “Hey man, you got a bike with you? Cool, let’s ride.”
Off we go up 1206 with me lagging behind almost the entire way to the gap. I took the lead on the short descent to Laurel, I love ripping down the gravel for a nitrous boost into the woods. The initial bit of trail just sets itself up for a nice right hand ripper onto the single track. Just as I was negotiating a car that was parked at the trail head while making the turn I hear “TOMATOOOO!” I turned to see all the Homers but couldn’t figure out which one knew me. Finally I saw Mike R. standing in the masses, shouted our route and he said theirs was one in the same. So I figured our paths would cross again. I know Mike R. and I figured he would be chasing a carrot in the form of a Tomato.
I led for a bit headed up Laurel until we came to some of the steeper pitches that I often walk. I pulled over to let Zach and Chris by as my heart was about to bounce out of my mouth and surely off the side of the trail if I wasn’t careful. It would seem as though I could never catch my breath or legs for the rest of the day.
The day was gorgeous and I just couldn’t imagine being anywhere else but in the woods. While lumbering though my bonk, I arrived at one of the gaps to see Zach and Chris waiting. Soon thereafter Mike came rolling up, he pronounced his carrot catching abilities and we chatted for a bit.
HIKE A BIKE. For me it was CRAWL with a BIKE.
We made it to the switchbacks on Pilot where we picnic’d and goofed around on the switch backs. I for one, had never made all of the switchbacks on Pilot and even though I was having an off day climbing, I was feeling good about my downhill prowess. We had time to goof off and change a flat so I rode the upper section of switchbacks three times and then was having so much fun I just kept popping them off, one right after another.
It had been so long since I had ridden Pilot I forgot about the huge Rock Garden after the switchbacks and somehow pounded my way down this section with only a minor dab as well.
HIKE A BIKE and more BONKING.
A nice view from Slate where we talked about how much Pisgah sucks and then a short descent and some gravel grinding back to the car. Thanks for waiting up guys.
Pictures in this post are a mix of Clem’s and mine.
Wait till tomorrow, when I tell you about how I tried to chop a large stump in half with my chest to show Meghan and Kristin that its not always how you ride your bike but sometimes it is how you fall off of it.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Mountain Bike Trippin'
Ripping Laurel lines
Green glowing leaves
Turning wall rides on dimes
Grunting pleas
Icy springtime Little River
Corn Mill Hole Shoal
Falling makes one shiver
Cedar Rock Corral
Big Rock table top
Longside connects through
Rock Quarry, no blackberry shop
Cannon Creek, Its all for you
Out and Back
Cannon Creek love again
Chain slack
What else will remain?
Breaking rhymes
Simple machines
Lost in time
When will we meet again?
How about next Wednesday?
Peace
Green glowing leaves
Turning wall rides on dimes
Grunting pleas
Icy springtime Little River
Corn Mill Hole Shoal
Falling makes one shiver
Cedar Rock Corral
Big Rock table top
Longside connects through
Rock Quarry, no blackberry shop
Cannon Creek, Its all for you
Out and Back
Cannon Creek love again
Chain slack
What else will remain?
Breaking rhymes
Simple machines
Lost in time
When will we meet again?
How about next Wednesday?
Peace
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Could We Get a Tube Over Here?
A great group of folks met up Saturday morning for a loop of Old Toll Road to Heart Break.What can be said of this old toll road’s climb? Let it be known that I had my only fall up-hill and it caused me to pinch-leak my tubeless Mountain King on the back wheel. I was able to pedal through the seeping and seal the tire back up with a little CO2. Six other tubes would not be so lucky today. That’s right six flats while descending Heart Break.
Some profiles from David George.
Dennis Kuntz, showing us how to roll the steep switchbacks coming down Heart Break.
Eric and Stephen rocking out the last bit of the climb before the overlook.
The prettiest bike move I have seen in awhile was performed by Eric. The old toll road has one downhill during its menacing climb and it is super fun. You get going really fast and then the trail shoots you through some Rhododendron tunnels at speed. As you come out of one of the tunnels, the trail leans into a corner and quickly you realize that the log bridge coming up is really a half-ass death trap. Jeremy had stopped to warn everyone on this ride and laid his bike down in the middle of the trail. When Eric came speeding around the corner he rode a wheelie across the logs only to bunny hop Jeremy's bike to safety.
Good times on a beautiful day.
Thursday, May 08, 2008
PMBAR photos
Thank's to Brad, I have a ton of pictures to reflect on. Good times!!
Here I am saying that my handlebars are #1 in the market for their reparability.
Here I am saying that my handlebars are #1 in the market for their reparability.
We had a good crew show up last night and for some stupid reason I had it in my head that we were going to hit a long route up. BAD IDEA, I am apparently still wasted from the last couple weeks on the bike.
We took a long way around the forest, including Johanna road down and then went and did the stupid thing of riding down Jim Branch, up Ridgeline and back down Ridgeline only to have to climb out and ride back to Fawn Lake.
Coming down Ridgeline was the highlight of the night. The trails were super dusty with a trail consistency of dirt and sand on top of hard-pack. My tire combo is rocking it out these days so I jumped in behind Dennis and before I knew it, I heard a holler and I was riding through Dennis’ cloud of dust. Apparently on the first turn, his front wheel had washed out but he pulled it out miraculously.
I knew this was my opportunity to catch him and I did. Then we started railing all the turns just as though the dirt was smooth and wet. When we came around one of the tighter turns, I could feel my wheels start to slip out but the tires held true. At this same time I could here Zach burning up my back wheel and I wondered how his bike could be railing faster than mine when I heard “WOOOOOOOWWWWwwwwwwww.” His bike had done the “I will go where I want, when I want” trick on him and sent him flying through the woods. I was grinning and laughing the entire way down the trail. Good times.
We took a long way around the forest, including Johanna road down and then went and did the stupid thing of riding down Jim Branch, up Ridgeline and back down Ridgeline only to have to climb out and ride back to Fawn Lake.
Coming down Ridgeline was the highlight of the night. The trails were super dusty with a trail consistency of dirt and sand on top of hard-pack. My tire combo is rocking it out these days so I jumped in behind Dennis and before I knew it, I heard a holler and I was riding through Dennis’ cloud of dust. Apparently on the first turn, his front wheel had washed out but he pulled it out miraculously.
I knew this was my opportunity to catch him and I did. Then we started railing all the turns just as though the dirt was smooth and wet. When we came around one of the tighter turns, I could feel my wheels start to slip out but the tires held true. At this same time I could here Zach burning up my back wheel and I wondered how his bike could be railing faster than mine when I heard “WOOOOOOOWWWWwwwwwwww.” His bike had done the “I will go where I want, when I want” trick on him and sent him flying through the woods. I was grinning and laughing the entire way down the trail. Good times.
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Back In Action
I was able to get some new handlebars on the bike just in time for tonight's ride. Saahhhweeeeet.
If you are interested, check out my partner's race report from PMBAR.
Peace
If you are interested, check out my partner's race report from PMBAR.
Peace
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Time Off
For my own musings, I need to sit back and reflect on what has happened thus far in 2008. You see, I am not a racer in any form. I am a recreational mountain biker that happens to be in good enough shape to finish upper/middle of the pack in Endurance races and last in Cross Country. “Racing” for me, really does nothing besides ensuring that I am in a particular shape at different points in the year. Prime time for me is normally fall through winter as I don’t take too well to the Southern heat wave during the summer.
In years past, most of my racing accomplishments were simply finishing races without dying. This year I am starting to realize that I can finish some races and with proper nutrition, not feel like death. This was the first PMBAR where I can say that I didn’t feel like puking coming down Black in the end. I am a desk jockey after all but for some damn reason my desk/computer never breaks. Maybe I should get one made of Aluminum or Steel. . .
Sorry about that, I got side tracked, back onto the topic here:
I have competed in the following races so far in 2008:
Icycle
FATS benefit Ride
The Most Horrible Thing Ever
Snake Creek Gap Time Trial
Race to the River
Cohutta 100
PMBAR
That’s 360 + miles and 370 or there about dollars. Damn, only a few more miles in TMHTE or PMBAR and I would have equaled out to $1.00/mile. In today’s mountain bike market, that seems to be a fair deal. The only way this happens for me is to compete in some free races like TMHTE.
That’s a lot for me already this year. I attribute most of my fitness to getting ready and competing in The Most Horrible Thing Ever. I honestly think that combined with my Tuesday night rides to Paris and back has been what put me on top of my game this year. It has been rare, that I ride more than four times a week.
I have also broken two Steel Surly frames and most recently a Bontrager handlebar. I had a comment on Monday’s race report that said I should shop for a fork. Ummmmm No, the last thing I need is more moving parts that spew oil onto the forest floors. Its not that I am some crazy maniac that thinks technology is bad, I just don’t see where putting suspension on a frame that comes with a rigid fork will alleviate any problems. It may prolong some problems but it will not alleviate them.
I do have a yearning for gears and suspension. I sometimes miss the feeling of truly flying through the woods. Big ringing downhills while floating on a cushion of air is quite nice. I haven’t felt that in almost two years now. I just can’t justify altering my UDM, I will always have a Karate Monkey (As long as SURLY always makes one) and it will always be rigid.
I have no particular plans for the rest of the year. I have not signed up for another race in 2008. The next “event” on my schedule is to accomplish a task that I have yet to complete. I will be riding the NORTH/SOUTH trail sometime during Memorial Day weekend in Land Between the Lakes (LBL). I have always wanted to complete this 65+ mile out and back but never really had the motivation nor time while I was vacationing at the Lake. This year will hopefully be different as I have met some new nut cases/friends out of TN that are likely candidates to participate in such a silly notion during “vacation.”
Something will probably come along that I want to do but for now I just plan on riding and continuing trail work and Advocacy with SORBA. I have to tally my trail hours this year but I know I am already pushing 60+ for 2008 and I can’t wait for National Trails Day but that is another topic altogether.
Peace
In years past, most of my racing accomplishments were simply finishing races without dying. This year I am starting to realize that I can finish some races and with proper nutrition, not feel like death. This was the first PMBAR where I can say that I didn’t feel like puking coming down Black in the end. I am a desk jockey after all but for some damn reason my desk/computer never breaks. Maybe I should get one made of Aluminum or Steel. . .
Sorry about that, I got side tracked, back onto the topic here:
I have competed in the following races so far in 2008:
Icycle
FATS benefit Ride
The Most Horrible Thing Ever
Snake Creek Gap Time Trial
Race to the River
Cohutta 100
PMBAR
That’s 360 + miles and 370 or there about dollars. Damn, only a few more miles in TMHTE or PMBAR and I would have equaled out to $1.00/mile. In today’s mountain bike market, that seems to be a fair deal. The only way this happens for me is to compete in some free races like TMHTE.
That’s a lot for me already this year. I attribute most of my fitness to getting ready and competing in The Most Horrible Thing Ever. I honestly think that combined with my Tuesday night rides to Paris and back has been what put me on top of my game this year. It has been rare, that I ride more than four times a week.
I have also broken two Steel Surly frames and most recently a Bontrager handlebar. I had a comment on Monday’s race report that said I should shop for a fork. Ummmmm No, the last thing I need is more moving parts that spew oil onto the forest floors. Its not that I am some crazy maniac that thinks technology is bad, I just don’t see where putting suspension on a frame that comes with a rigid fork will alleviate any problems. It may prolong some problems but it will not alleviate them.
I do have a yearning for gears and suspension. I sometimes miss the feeling of truly flying through the woods. Big ringing downhills while floating on a cushion of air is quite nice. I haven’t felt that in almost two years now. I just can’t justify altering my UDM, I will always have a Karate Monkey (As long as SURLY always makes one) and it will always be rigid.
I have no particular plans for the rest of the year. I have not signed up for another race in 2008. The next “event” on my schedule is to accomplish a task that I have yet to complete. I will be riding the NORTH/SOUTH trail sometime during Memorial Day weekend in Land Between the Lakes (LBL). I have always wanted to complete this 65+ mile out and back but never really had the motivation nor time while I was vacationing at the Lake. This year will hopefully be different as I have met some new nut cases/friends out of TN that are likely candidates to participate in such a silly notion during “vacation.”
Something will probably come along that I want to do but for now I just plan on riding and continuing trail work and Advocacy with SORBA. I have to tally my trail hours this year but I know I am already pushing 60+ for 2008 and I can’t wait for National Trails Day but that is another topic altogether.
Peace
Monday, May 05, 2008
What’s That Creaking? PMBAR 2008
This year’s Pisgah Mountain Bike Adventure Race would be Team Trippin’ On Lactic Acid’s third attempt and completion at the race.
The rules are simple and go as follows. There are seven checkpoints strewn in and around Pisgah’s Ranger District. You must make it to four of the seven checkpoints to finish and most likely all seven if you want to vie for first place. There are two mandatory checkpoints that you can choose from. You must either choose Farlow Gap or Turkey Pen, two polar opposites when it comes to riding in this vast National Forest.
After head honcho Eric’s speech on how not to die in the woods, we had our passports in hand and were told to go. The passport is your guide to knowing where all the checkpoints are as you get it stamped along the way to provide proof of visitation to each of the checkpoints. After quickly glancing at the passport, I realized that most of the checkpoints were the same as 2007. This made our job of choosing Turkey Pen as our mandatory very easy as we had gone for Farlow last year.
Off we go up Black Mountain to get a quick 1,000 feet of climbing out of the way in the form of a warm-up. At the first sharp turn, there was a sign that read “Where am I?” and it had a Gnome with a blue jacket and red hat on. Why do I know all of this? I figured it was a “special test” and at the end of the race Eric was going to ask “Where was the Gnome with the X jacket and Y colored hat. Soon I saw more and more signs and I realized they were just placed there for no particular reason other than to befuddle the teams.
Joe and I stopped at Pressley for a quick once over of the passport and then I realized it was exactly the same as last year. That meant I already knew our route as long as nothing un-expected happened.
Black -> Turkey Pen -> S. Mills River -> Mullinax -> Laurel Creek (out and back) Squirrel Gap -> S. Mills River, -> Buckhorn -> Black Mountain (out and back from the gap) -> Clawhammer -> Maxwell Cove -> Black Mountain
I asked Jody and Cook if they thought it looked the same as last year and they confirmed my thoughts. So we took off with the masses headed further up Black to Turkey Pen. As we were pushing I started up a conversation with Jody about their route choice. He said something about him and Cook headed to Farlow. I said “Your going to Farlow over Black Mountain?” They would eventually change their minds on this one.
The single track was just awesome this day. The dirt was perfect and my new tire set up was really sticking nicely and sucking up most of the bumps. I had some creaking on really steep sections of trail but I chose to ignore it. I did however, inspect my downtube at every possible moment for potential cracks.
After snagging Turkey Pen we started up Mullinax to see Toby and Kenny headed back down. They had made the same mistake Joe and I made three years ago by miss-reading the passport. This wouldn’t be their only mistake of the day. Pisgah can confuse.
Up Mullinax to Laurel Creek and we had a blast once again on Laurel. This year’s PMBAR should have been called “An awesome day of single track.” It felt great to have the strength to ride the single track at a decent clip.
After nabbing our second checkpoint we took off back up Laurel. For the most part, it was obvious who was in what position in the race. I knew that if we didn’t go for five checkpoints it was going to be impossible to get in the top ten. At this point in the race, I secretly wanted to go for five but that was easy to talk about in my mind at that point.
Onto Squirrel and all I could think about was how easy this trail seems after hiking/riding it in February during TMHTE. We were 18 hours into the race at that point in February and I only wanted to die. Saturday was much different, I felt strong and Squirrel didn’t let me down, that trail is bad ass. Past Cantrell and another checkpoint is bagged. The feeling I had at TMHTE almost caused me to take Cantrell instead of Squirrel but I knew this was a mistake and talked myself out of it. While Joe ate a sandwich, I spied the map for the last time of the day. Confident with the rest of our route, Joe and I started talking “how much longer” and I knew it was going to be four and out for us.
Onto Buckhorn’s climb and I saw a yellow and black team that I wanted to pass, we passed them but got passed back just before the gap. We were off chasing them over black to Club Gap. After Club, we were headed back over the way we came toward the Buckhorn shelter. I knew the road from Avery was quicker but I thought it was off-limits for some reason.
When we got to the staircase, I saw Cook and Jody and just had to ride the staircase. It felt great and I got some compliments from Jody on our aggressive pace. I said a quick thanks and then we were off down Clawhammer as fast as we could. This was the first gravel road we had been on all day as the rest had been fine singletrack. After three or four hair raising turns down Clawhammer, I felt something weird and realized I was holding my Ergon grip in my hand but it wasn’t attached to the handlebars. HOLY SHIT, I AM GOING TO DIE, was the first thought that crossed my mind, then I realized I should probably drop the grip and grab onto something but nothing was there. My handle bars had sheared off about a half inch past the grip. With the grip and handlebar gone, I used my left hand to steady what was left of the handlebars then grabbed two fingers worth of back brake as I clenched the seat with all my butt power (go on laugh at me, this was no laughing matter at that moment).
Miraculously, I pulled it out without going down. I quickly jogged back up to retrieve my grip and went to work getting the handle-bar out of the grip, I thought maybe I could slide the grip back onto the rest of the bar but quickly realized that I was just wasting time. Time to man up and ride this race home.
It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be going down Clawhammer but I was worried about the descent down Black. I thought I might have to run the entire downhill. I got it in my mind that if I pedaled as hard as possible up Maxwell, I could get enough of a lead on Joe as to not hinder our progress too much on the downhill. I only had to walk once going up Maxwell due to the fact that standing and climbing is tough without a fully functional bar.
I crested the climb and took off up the hike-a-bike. Not too long into the descent and Joe was there. I was having a slow go at it but was able to ride all but the most technical parts. We had managed to ward off anyone from passing us until the turn back toward the finish. Ben and Drew went flying by and beat us by less than a minute. We ultimately ended up 17th out of 70 + teams.
A huge thanks to Eric and all the volunteers! Thanks to SMOKE BIKES for making my new CANINE frame that I won in the raffle. I will get some pictures up soon.
The rules are simple and go as follows. There are seven checkpoints strewn in and around Pisgah’s Ranger District. You must make it to four of the seven checkpoints to finish and most likely all seven if you want to vie for first place. There are two mandatory checkpoints that you can choose from. You must either choose Farlow Gap or Turkey Pen, two polar opposites when it comes to riding in this vast National Forest.
After head honcho Eric’s speech on how not to die in the woods, we had our passports in hand and were told to go. The passport is your guide to knowing where all the checkpoints are as you get it stamped along the way to provide proof of visitation to each of the checkpoints. After quickly glancing at the passport, I realized that most of the checkpoints were the same as 2007. This made our job of choosing Turkey Pen as our mandatory very easy as we had gone for Farlow last year.
Off we go up Black Mountain to get a quick 1,000 feet of climbing out of the way in the form of a warm-up. At the first sharp turn, there was a sign that read “Where am I?” and it had a Gnome with a blue jacket and red hat on. Why do I know all of this? I figured it was a “special test” and at the end of the race Eric was going to ask “Where was the Gnome with the X jacket and Y colored hat. Soon I saw more and more signs and I realized they were just placed there for no particular reason other than to befuddle the teams.
Joe and I stopped at Pressley for a quick once over of the passport and then I realized it was exactly the same as last year. That meant I already knew our route as long as nothing un-expected happened.
Black -> Turkey Pen -> S. Mills River -> Mullinax -> Laurel Creek (out and back) Squirrel Gap -> S. Mills River, -> Buckhorn -> Black Mountain (out and back from the gap) -> Clawhammer -> Maxwell Cove -> Black Mountain
I asked Jody and Cook if they thought it looked the same as last year and they confirmed my thoughts. So we took off with the masses headed further up Black to Turkey Pen. As we were pushing I started up a conversation with Jody about their route choice. He said something about him and Cook headed to Farlow. I said “Your going to Farlow over Black Mountain?” They would eventually change their minds on this one.
The single track was just awesome this day. The dirt was perfect and my new tire set up was really sticking nicely and sucking up most of the bumps. I had some creaking on really steep sections of trail but I chose to ignore it. I did however, inspect my downtube at every possible moment for potential cracks.
After snagging Turkey Pen we started up Mullinax to see Toby and Kenny headed back down. They had made the same mistake Joe and I made three years ago by miss-reading the passport. This wouldn’t be their only mistake of the day. Pisgah can confuse.
Up Mullinax to Laurel Creek and we had a blast once again on Laurel. This year’s PMBAR should have been called “An awesome day of single track.” It felt great to have the strength to ride the single track at a decent clip.
After nabbing our second checkpoint we took off back up Laurel. For the most part, it was obvious who was in what position in the race. I knew that if we didn’t go for five checkpoints it was going to be impossible to get in the top ten. At this point in the race, I secretly wanted to go for five but that was easy to talk about in my mind at that point.
Onto Squirrel and all I could think about was how easy this trail seems after hiking/riding it in February during TMHTE. We were 18 hours into the race at that point in February and I only wanted to die. Saturday was much different, I felt strong and Squirrel didn’t let me down, that trail is bad ass. Past Cantrell and another checkpoint is bagged. The feeling I had at TMHTE almost caused me to take Cantrell instead of Squirrel but I knew this was a mistake and talked myself out of it. While Joe ate a sandwich, I spied the map for the last time of the day. Confident with the rest of our route, Joe and I started talking “how much longer” and I knew it was going to be four and out for us.
Onto Buckhorn’s climb and I saw a yellow and black team that I wanted to pass, we passed them but got passed back just before the gap. We were off chasing them over black to Club Gap. After Club, we were headed back over the way we came toward the Buckhorn shelter. I knew the road from Avery was quicker but I thought it was off-limits for some reason.
When we got to the staircase, I saw Cook and Jody and just had to ride the staircase. It felt great and I got some compliments from Jody on our aggressive pace. I said a quick thanks and then we were off down Clawhammer as fast as we could. This was the first gravel road we had been on all day as the rest had been fine singletrack. After three or four hair raising turns down Clawhammer, I felt something weird and realized I was holding my Ergon grip in my hand but it wasn’t attached to the handlebars. HOLY SHIT, I AM GOING TO DIE, was the first thought that crossed my mind, then I realized I should probably drop the grip and grab onto something but nothing was there. My handle bars had sheared off about a half inch past the grip. With the grip and handlebar gone, I used my left hand to steady what was left of the handlebars then grabbed two fingers worth of back brake as I clenched the seat with all my butt power (go on laugh at me, this was no laughing matter at that moment).
Miraculously, I pulled it out without going down. I quickly jogged back up to retrieve my grip and went to work getting the handle-bar out of the grip, I thought maybe I could slide the grip back onto the rest of the bar but quickly realized that I was just wasting time. Time to man up and ride this race home.
It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be going down Clawhammer but I was worried about the descent down Black. I thought I might have to run the entire downhill. I got it in my mind that if I pedaled as hard as possible up Maxwell, I could get enough of a lead on Joe as to not hinder our progress too much on the downhill. I only had to walk once going up Maxwell due to the fact that standing and climbing is tough without a fully functional bar.
I crested the climb and took off up the hike-a-bike. Not too long into the descent and Joe was there. I was having a slow go at it but was able to ride all but the most technical parts. We had managed to ward off anyone from passing us until the turn back toward the finish. Ben and Drew went flying by and beat us by less than a minute. We ultimately ended up 17th out of 70 + teams.
A huge thanks to Eric and all the volunteers! Thanks to SMOKE BIKES for making my new CANINE frame that I won in the raffle. I will get some pictures up soon.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Smells Like PMBAR
My first day back on the bike after Cohutta was this past Friday. D-Kuntz, ZB and I rode my local haunt to, from and at Paris. After ejecting myself from the bike in the first 200 yards on the trail I took it easy and really suffered from lack of fitness. It was a good 27 miles to start out a weekend.Saturday involved a ton of shoving, pushing, lifting, wrestling, hernia-ting rocks. Zach and I drove up from Travlers Rest to meet a small but efficient work crew. We worked on “the DROP section” of Burnt Mountain. This is probably the most prized/well known downhill in all of Dupont. It is a pretty hairy section of trail that
previously had three decent sized drops in succession. The Appalachian Rock Armoring technique that I have been involved with so frequently as of late was brought to use. We moved some extremely large rocks into place and the work looks beautiful. When this trail opens back up, you are going to want to walk this technical section and have a “looksie” before you ride it.Sunday rolled around and Kristin wanted to take her single speed out for its first spin. We rounded up the dogs and took the following route for Kristin’s first ride in Dupont.
From Fawn Lake, Fawn Lake Trail (clockwise) -> Airstrip -> Laurel Ridge -> Shoals -> Corn Mill Shoals (river ford) -> looked at the new work on Burnt Mountain -> back across the river on Corn Mill Shoals -> Shoals -> Laurel Ridge -> Mine Mountain
I just had to “break the rules” and ride the work we had done on Burnt. So we hiked up and Kristin snapped my photo. This trail is going to have quite the pucker factor when it is complete. Nice work everyone!!
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Paris Mountain Friends and Family Day
Kristin, J, Steve,
and Brad have been instrumental in helping pull this day together in a short amount of time. There will be all kinds of fun. Thanks to everyone for helping out. Thanks to SORBA main providing the kids trailer, I will not be there as I will be working on Burnt Mountain in Dupont. We have to spread the love you know.
and Brad have been instrumental in helping pull this day together in a short amount of time. There will be all kinds of fun. Thanks to everyone for helping out. Thanks to SORBA main providing the kids trailer, I will not be there as I will be working on Burnt Mountain in Dupont. We have to spread the love you know.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Rainbow Falls
The family went for a quick four mile hike yesterday. It felt good to shake out the legs but I definitely feel some sore spots from Saturday.You can see me in the left hand side of the falls for scale.
We were headed to check out the newly fashioned Rainbow Falls trail at Jones Gap. The volunteers and contractors did an excellent job with this trail. It is quite steep and huff puffing on the way up but what a sweet reward. This is the best falls I have seen in the park. Look out for this trail to be super busy on the summer weekends as it is highly accessible from the main lot.
An interesting note, Shade was running
back and forth between Kristin and I and somehow came out of the woods with what 
is in the last picture. I heard Kristin yell “Shade has a stick for you” when I turned around he dropped it about four feet from me and I was slightly shocked at first. We never saw the rest of the carcass.
Monday, April 21, 2008
The Elusive 100 – Cohutta 2008
For those of you who have busy lives and would like to skip all the gibberish, 9:45 (something close to that anyway) was my time for the 100. I felt pretty good the entire time and never hit the dirt.
Friday
In all actuality, Palmetto Solo’s late arrival at my house caused me to be more prepared for a race than I ever had been before. Kristin, Toby, Shade, Buddy and I all got to the whitewater center around 8:15pm for registration. I paid close attention to the cheat sheet BrouSSard had given me. It was an elevation profile of the 100 with the aid stations marked on it. I packed my three sag stops and realized I had forgotten my extra tube I was going to leave at the fourth aid station. I didn’t make the effort to walk back to the car (about 200 yards) for the tube, I was confident that there would be no flats for me.
Back at the cabin, I stared at the back wheel that was already on the bike and almost said the heck with setting up my new wheel. Toby had brought the newly re-built Bontrager Race Light wheel from the shop and I needed to throw my old Exiwolf on tubeless. After a little help from Cook during the pumping process and a lot of laughing we got the tire mounted on and I was good to go. I announced to Cissy that I was so confident in my set up that I wasn’t even going to test ride it and just threw the bike back on top of my car.
Lying in bed that evening, I didn’t fall asleep until the rain came pouring down.
Saturday
After Bruce let the entire Tennessee valley know who the big names were at the race we were off. A couple friends of mine had let me know that the start would be crucial. Normally in an endurance event of this magnitude I would let everyone run away and then try and catch up later after I had warmed up. Not today, I wasn’t in the red but I was damn close as I tried my best to pace line and draft off of some gearies. As we made the turn onto the forest service road I saw Luis cutting some folks off as he vied for a stronger position into the single track. I tried my best to do the same and ended up one person back from him on the dirt.
This was my first time being in a large group of skilled riders during an event of this caliber and it was awesome. I was in the perfect spot. The single track flowed so perfectly through the trees. Just barely tight enough for me not to spin the 34X22 out and nothing ever steep enough to force me off the bike. I kept pace line rolling until it got flat enough for a few to pull away. I let one person around and then had nobody behind me so I slowed and brought my heart rate way back down.
Out of the twisty single track, we were dropped down by the river onto a flat section of trail. Three or four geared riders passed me here as I was spun out. We came around one corner and there were roots everywhere. I was not prepared and nailed the roots with both wheels. I thanked my lucky stars for having the tubeless set up and hammered on.
Right before a gnarly creek crossing, I saw a photographer taking pictures and heard “on your left.” I looked up and thought “Who the hell is going to pass me in this creek.” Then heard “heads up, heads up” as the guy realized this was not the best spot to pass. There was a large bridge and I heard “slippery bridge” being called out as I spied Danielle sitting in a chair wincing in pain from an apparent fall on the bridge. My heart went out to her as nobody wants to be taken out like that. After I rounded the bridge, I saw multiple riders pulling tubes and changing flats.
I knew I was getting close to the end of the first section of single track when a huge pace line of 20 or so riders started to catch me. I put the hammer down one more time to keep from getting passed and before I knew it I was at aid station one. A quick bottle fill and I was off.
This was to start 70 or so miles of gravel. In true Zen fashion I didn’t think about it. I donned my sun glasses that I had specifically bought for the gravel and rode. Eventually Danielle caught back up to me. Casually I asked her if she was the one who had fallen on the bridge, she said “yes” and I asked her if she was alright, she said “no.”
I rolled along with multiple people as we yo-yo’d down the gravel. I talked with another fellow riding a Karate Monkey from Harrisonburg for quite a bit. Eventually I saw Stephen come along, he was pacing behind Danielle and another girl so I hopped on and we chatted for a bit. Stephen informed me that he was trying his best to stay between 10 and 11 mph. I asked how he was doing and he said “10.8”. I was surprised and secretly happy as I had internalized a sub 10 hour goal. We were headed from aid station two to three and I knew a long climb was in store.
I felt good all the way to aid station three. I grabbed a peanut butter honey sandwich and ate it as I walked the bike up the last steep pitch from the aid station. Up to this point, fifty something miles into the race, I hadn’t had any problems. My nutrition was spot on I hadn’t let my heart get out of control, I knew I was ready.
I started pushing it harder and harder up the climbs. The flat spots would cause me some pain from spinning so much but then the climbs were like magic. Every now and then I would walk but only briefly as to shake out the legs. This is a spot in the race where I thought about Kristin and my life and how incredibly lucky I am to be in a position where I could ride my bike and be happy. I thought about Harvey and how badly he would have wanted to do the race. All these things provided me extra strength and well being.
When I made it to aid station five, I saw Luis again. He said Rich (on his ultimate bad idea mission of riding fixed) had just left. Before this sentence could come out of Luis’ mouth my chain had been lubed, cleaned and I had already filled my gel flask from my zip lock drop bag. The volunteers in this race were OUTSTANDING. You would have thought every single racer that came through was royalty. I kept waiting for the red carpet to be rolled out as I headed back onto the course.
I took off ahead of Luis after I had upset him by commenting “the beer is getting closer.” There was another long flat section and then I knew a climb was coming up because everyone was talking (fearing) about it.
This was prime time for me, miles 70 – 90. I was hitting it up all the climbs and not having any problems sitting in the saddle grinding. I probably passed somewhere between 20 and 30 people during these miles. There were a lot of hurt faces. In the middle of one climb I saw Rich looking defeated. I spoke of the space time continuum trick Eric likes to use and carried on.
Those previous miles were too good to me. When I hit the last section of single track I hit the wall hard. I was still able to pedal but cramps and a weaning ability to turn over the cranks came crumbling on top of me. I knew I was getting close but I suffered. I was able to maintain composure and keep a straight line through the downhills. Any potential climb that might cause me to cramp, I walked. About 10 of those previous 20 I had passed, passed me back.
After what seemed like an eternity, I was dropped out onto the one mile flat that would take me to the finish line. I slowly spun my way down along the river, smiling from ear to ear knowing that my three year long dream of riding 100 miles on my mountain bike was coming to a close. The Undead Drunken Monkey and I shined duly with mud caked on every bit of us as we crossed the line.
Awesome organization from every aspect at this race; I would recommend it highly to anyone. Our cabin rocked it out. We had two single speed finishers in the 100, a second place for Toby in the SS 65. A second place in the women’s 65. We also had two finishers in the 35.
Did I mention that Kristin is now a fully rigid SS 29’er? Yah, she is so hip to the game.
Peace
Friday
In all actuality, Palmetto Solo’s late arrival at my house caused me to be more prepared for a race than I ever had been before. Kristin, Toby, Shade, Buddy and I all got to the whitewater center around 8:15pm for registration. I paid close attention to the cheat sheet BrouSSard had given me. It was an elevation profile of the 100 with the aid stations marked on it. I packed my three sag stops and realized I had forgotten my extra tube I was going to leave at the fourth aid station. I didn’t make the effort to walk back to the car (about 200 yards) for the tube, I was confident that there would be no flats for me.
Back at the cabin, I stared at the back wheel that was already on the bike and almost said the heck with setting up my new wheel. Toby had brought the newly re-built Bontrager Race Light wheel from the shop and I needed to throw my old Exiwolf on tubeless. After a little help from Cook during the pumping process and a lot of laughing we got the tire mounted on and I was good to go. I announced to Cissy that I was so confident in my set up that I wasn’t even going to test ride it and just threw the bike back on top of my car.
Lying in bed that evening, I didn’t fall asleep until the rain came pouring down.
Saturday
After Bruce let the entire Tennessee valley know who the big names were at the race we were off. A couple friends of mine had let me know that the start would be crucial. Normally in an endurance event of this magnitude I would let everyone run away and then try and catch up later after I had warmed up. Not today, I wasn’t in the red but I was damn close as I tried my best to pace line and draft off of some gearies. As we made the turn onto the forest service road I saw Luis cutting some folks off as he vied for a stronger position into the single track. I tried my best to do the same and ended up one person back from him on the dirt.
This was my first time being in a large group of skilled riders during an event of this caliber and it was awesome. I was in the perfect spot. The single track flowed so perfectly through the trees. Just barely tight enough for me not to spin the 34X22 out and nothing ever steep enough to force me off the bike. I kept pace line rolling until it got flat enough for a few to pull away. I let one person around and then had nobody behind me so I slowed and brought my heart rate way back down.
Out of the twisty single track, we were dropped down by the river onto a flat section of trail. Three or four geared riders passed me here as I was spun out. We came around one corner and there were roots everywhere. I was not prepared and nailed the roots with both wheels. I thanked my lucky stars for having the tubeless set up and hammered on.
Right before a gnarly creek crossing, I saw a photographer taking pictures and heard “on your left.” I looked up and thought “Who the hell is going to pass me in this creek.” Then heard “heads up, heads up” as the guy realized this was not the best spot to pass. There was a large bridge and I heard “slippery bridge” being called out as I spied Danielle sitting in a chair wincing in pain from an apparent fall on the bridge. My heart went out to her as nobody wants to be taken out like that. After I rounded the bridge, I saw multiple riders pulling tubes and changing flats.
I knew I was getting close to the end of the first section of single track when a huge pace line of 20 or so riders started to catch me. I put the hammer down one more time to keep from getting passed and before I knew it I was at aid station one. A quick bottle fill and I was off.
This was to start 70 or so miles of gravel. In true Zen fashion I didn’t think about it. I donned my sun glasses that I had specifically bought for the gravel and rode. Eventually Danielle caught back up to me. Casually I asked her if she was the one who had fallen on the bridge, she said “yes” and I asked her if she was alright, she said “no.”
I rolled along with multiple people as we yo-yo’d down the gravel. I talked with another fellow riding a Karate Monkey from Harrisonburg for quite a bit. Eventually I saw Stephen come along, he was pacing behind Danielle and another girl so I hopped on and we chatted for a bit. Stephen informed me that he was trying his best to stay between 10 and 11 mph. I asked how he was doing and he said “10.8”. I was surprised and secretly happy as I had internalized a sub 10 hour goal. We were headed from aid station two to three and I knew a long climb was in store.
I felt good all the way to aid station three. I grabbed a peanut butter honey sandwich and ate it as I walked the bike up the last steep pitch from the aid station. Up to this point, fifty something miles into the race, I hadn’t had any problems. My nutrition was spot on I hadn’t let my heart get out of control, I knew I was ready.
I started pushing it harder and harder up the climbs. The flat spots would cause me some pain from spinning so much but then the climbs were like magic. Every now and then I would walk but only briefly as to shake out the legs. This is a spot in the race where I thought about Kristin and my life and how incredibly lucky I am to be in a position where I could ride my bike and be happy. I thought about Harvey and how badly he would have wanted to do the race. All these things provided me extra strength and well being.
When I made it to aid station five, I saw Luis again. He said Rich (on his ultimate bad idea mission of riding fixed) had just left. Before this sentence could come out of Luis’ mouth my chain had been lubed, cleaned and I had already filled my gel flask from my zip lock drop bag. The volunteers in this race were OUTSTANDING. You would have thought every single racer that came through was royalty. I kept waiting for the red carpet to be rolled out as I headed back onto the course.
I took off ahead of Luis after I had upset him by commenting “the beer is getting closer.” There was another long flat section and then I knew a climb was coming up because everyone was talking (fearing) about it.
This was prime time for me, miles 70 – 90. I was hitting it up all the climbs and not having any problems sitting in the saddle grinding. I probably passed somewhere between 20 and 30 people during these miles. There were a lot of hurt faces. In the middle of one climb I saw Rich looking defeated. I spoke of the space time continuum trick Eric likes to use and carried on.
Those previous miles were too good to me. When I hit the last section of single track I hit the wall hard. I was still able to pedal but cramps and a weaning ability to turn over the cranks came crumbling on top of me. I knew I was getting close but I suffered. I was able to maintain composure and keep a straight line through the downhills. Any potential climb that might cause me to cramp, I walked. About 10 of those previous 20 I had passed, passed me back.
After what seemed like an eternity, I was dropped out onto the one mile flat that would take me to the finish line. I slowly spun my way down along the river, smiling from ear to ear knowing that my three year long dream of riding 100 miles on my mountain bike was coming to a close. The Undead Drunken Monkey and I shined duly with mud caked on every bit of us as we crossed the line.
Awesome organization from every aspect at this race; I would recommend it highly to anyone. Our cabin rocked it out. We had two single speed finishers in the 100, a second place for Toby in the SS 65. A second place in the women’s 65. We also had two finishers in the 35.
Did I mention that Kristin is now a fully rigid SS 29’er? Yah, she is so hip to the game.
Peace
Monday, April 14, 2008
Race to The River 2008
Saturday started out with an early trip to Harrell’s Bicycle World. I busted up the rear wheel on the UDM this past Wednesday and was looking for some solution to the creaking bottom bracket I was experiencing.
Luckily I had brought a spare rear wheel as my tubeless rim was shot. Hopefully it will be re-built in time for the Cohutta as I was planning on rolling tubeless.
After that, we took a trip over to Green’s for some liquid anti-inflammatory in the form of Foothill’s Seeing Double IPA.
Off to the races, I was told there was no expert class until I explained that Harrell’s would be bringing a load of experts. What no experts from Cycle Center? Hmmmmm. . .
Joe and I rolled around for a quick warm-up and then headed to the line to see if we could kick this thing off a little early as the weather was quickly rearing its ugly head in the form of wind and small drops of water. This worried Joe as the tire he had on the back wheel looked like a 26” inner tube wrapped with a “for her pleasure” Trojan. Just as Rebecca was going to get us started Joe said “I’ll be right back.”
After a minute, I went down to check on his status and rile him up a little. It looked like he had his NASCAR pit crew out there as he swapped both his wheels so he had a little more “conforming” tire. I just had to laugh when we lined up as one fellow Steven had brought his Independent Fab Cross bike with him. It made me cringe thinking about rocking that bike out at Harbison.
Finally we were off in a semi-organized fashion with an “ok. . . go” as the start. I jumped in fifth position and already knew I was in over my head but just ran with it. After the first five turns, I had let a small gap bridge between me and the rider up ahead. I heard Damon call out that I needed to hustle up and close the gap. I turned the cranks over a little harder but when I came up to a swampy section there was a short cut I didn’t see and most of the crew including Damon, Toby and Joe went around me. It was better off as I was putting out too much effort at that point.
The only person left behind me was Steven on his cross bike. Through the harder section on Stewardship I could see him looming behind me and I knew I would be caught on the 3 mile flat section. Sure enough after a mile he was around me and I was hoping to catch back up on Spider Woman.
My legs felt good but not fresh as I still had a ton of off-road miles looming in them since the past Sunday. I knew that would ultimately benefit me for next weekend and I didn’t worry as I hoped my legs would feel better the warmer they got.
Into Spiderwoman, I saw the boys along with IF Steven as I was headed up the creek and they were headed down. I was still in range with 16 or so miles left in the race so I had some hope.
Once I made it to the rock garden, I tried my best to bang my way over the rocks but after the first two turns I plowed into a rock that almost caused me to meet the ground so I just got off and mall walked as fast as my heart would let me. I once again saw Steve up ahead of me. This would be the last time I would see anyone.
Out of Spiderwoman and onto Midlands Mountain trail; I always forget how rooty the downhill is in this direction as the 18 mph descent shook me too the core and I prayed that I didn’t pinch flat as I had tubes in.
Up the steep climb on Midlands and I realized the map that was put online was wrong. We were bypassing the Bluffs, one of my favorite short sections at Harbison. It was all good though as riding that section in the direction we were headed would have been a hike a bike for me.
Onto Firebreak and Crooked Pine I noticed how green everything was. Springtime had already fallen on Columbia and it made me smile knowing everything in the mountains will be green soon. I love springtime green’s as they are so vibrant.
Through one of the fast sections I went to spin as fast as I could and dropped the chain, SHIT, I had forgotten to double check the tension after leaving the shop. The chain formed two little loops as I told myself to breath and not get frustrated while I fondled the chain like two teenagers in the back of a car. I lost about 45 – 60 seconds in the ordeal but made sure to put it back on right as to avoid another petting session.
As I rounded by the start/finish, done with my first lap, I chucked my camel bak as my back was hurting and I didn’t care if I had to hike out with a flat. I still had my gel flask in my pocket and that was all I needed along with the bottles in my cages.
Coming into the spider woman the second time I really started to feel good. I was powering up the climbs instead of struggling to the top. The 34X19 that I had on was the hardest gear ratio I had ever ran at Harbison but it felt good.
When I hit the climb up Midlands the rain came down and it felt good. It motivated me to keep on the cranks until the finish. I never saw Steven or anyone else for that matter but that was ok. I finished last but not too far behind and I felt great. The second lap was awesome and oh how I miss the twisty turns and quick ups and downs out at Harbison. It is a great place to train and ride.
On another note, Spiderwoman is still awesome but sad at the same time. I imagine that at least 70 percent of the trail needs to be re-routed as most of the downs have awful stutter bumps and the erosion on the climbs is rampant.
I had a great time racing behind my boys. Thanks to everyone who volunteered and all the Harrell’s riders for actually making a class.
Time to rest.
Luckily I had brought a spare rear wheel as my tubeless rim was shot. Hopefully it will be re-built in time for the Cohutta as I was planning on rolling tubeless.
After that, we took a trip over to Green’s for some liquid anti-inflammatory in the form of Foothill’s Seeing Double IPA.
Off to the races, I was told there was no expert class until I explained that Harrell’s would be bringing a load of experts. What no experts from Cycle Center? Hmmmmm. . .
Joe and I rolled around for a quick warm-up and then headed to the line to see if we could kick this thing off a little early as the weather was quickly rearing its ugly head in the form of wind and small drops of water. This worried Joe as the tire he had on the back wheel looked like a 26” inner tube wrapped with a “for her pleasure” Trojan. Just as Rebecca was going to get us started Joe said “I’ll be right back.”
After a minute, I went down to check on his status and rile him up a little. It looked like he had his NASCAR pit crew out there as he swapped both his wheels so he had a little more “conforming” tire. I just had to laugh when we lined up as one fellow Steven had brought his Independent Fab Cross bike with him. It made me cringe thinking about rocking that bike out at Harbison.
Finally we were off in a semi-organized fashion with an “ok. . . go” as the start. I jumped in fifth position and already knew I was in over my head but just ran with it. After the first five turns, I had let a small gap bridge between me and the rider up ahead. I heard Damon call out that I needed to hustle up and close the gap. I turned the cranks over a little harder but when I came up to a swampy section there was a short cut I didn’t see and most of the crew including Damon, Toby and Joe went around me. It was better off as I was putting out too much effort at that point.
The only person left behind me was Steven on his cross bike. Through the harder section on Stewardship I could see him looming behind me and I knew I would be caught on the 3 mile flat section. Sure enough after a mile he was around me and I was hoping to catch back up on Spider Woman.
My legs felt good but not fresh as I still had a ton of off-road miles looming in them since the past Sunday. I knew that would ultimately benefit me for next weekend and I didn’t worry as I hoped my legs would feel better the warmer they got.
Into Spiderwoman, I saw the boys along with IF Steven as I was headed up the creek and they were headed down. I was still in range with 16 or so miles left in the race so I had some hope.
Once I made it to the rock garden, I tried my best to bang my way over the rocks but after the first two turns I plowed into a rock that almost caused me to meet the ground so I just got off and mall walked as fast as my heart would let me. I once again saw Steve up ahead of me. This would be the last time I would see anyone.
Out of Spiderwoman and onto Midlands Mountain trail; I always forget how rooty the downhill is in this direction as the 18 mph descent shook me too the core and I prayed that I didn’t pinch flat as I had tubes in.
Up the steep climb on Midlands and I realized the map that was put online was wrong. We were bypassing the Bluffs, one of my favorite short sections at Harbison. It was all good though as riding that section in the direction we were headed would have been a hike a bike for me.
Onto Firebreak and Crooked Pine I noticed how green everything was. Springtime had already fallen on Columbia and it made me smile knowing everything in the mountains will be green soon. I love springtime green’s as they are so vibrant.
Through one of the fast sections I went to spin as fast as I could and dropped the chain, SHIT, I had forgotten to double check the tension after leaving the shop. The chain formed two little loops as I told myself to breath and not get frustrated while I fondled the chain like two teenagers in the back of a car. I lost about 45 – 60 seconds in the ordeal but made sure to put it back on right as to avoid another petting session.
As I rounded by the start/finish, done with my first lap, I chucked my camel bak as my back was hurting and I didn’t care if I had to hike out with a flat. I still had my gel flask in my pocket and that was all I needed along with the bottles in my cages.
Coming into the spider woman the second time I really started to feel good. I was powering up the climbs instead of struggling to the top. The 34X19 that I had on was the hardest gear ratio I had ever ran at Harbison but it felt good.
When I hit the climb up Midlands the rain came down and it felt good. It motivated me to keep on the cranks until the finish. I never saw Steven or anyone else for that matter but that was ok. I finished last but not too far behind and I felt great. The second lap was awesome and oh how I miss the twisty turns and quick ups and downs out at Harbison. It is a great place to train and ride.
On another note, Spiderwoman is still awesome but sad at the same time. I imagine that at least 70 percent of the trail needs to be re-routed as most of the downs have awful stutter bumps and the erosion on the climbs is rampant.
I had a great time racing behind my boys. Thanks to everyone who volunteered and all the Harrell’s riders for actually making a class.
Time to rest.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Are You Ready?
Wednesday’s ride put me in the hurt cave pretty bad. After close to 40 on Sunday and 30 on Tuesday the 23 on Wednesday had me screaming for my mommy.There were plans of “going easy” and “if you want to go hard, just wait for us.” Those sorts of comments don’t ever seem to fly for this group.
I tagged my second squirrel at Dupont on Wednesday. It was as we were headed down the fast section into the new ridgeline. There was going to be no swerving at upwards of 20 mph in the woods. I saw him come from my right and I tried to extend the bike to keep from hitting him but I got him with the back wheel. ZB said the little guy ran off though so I guess I didn’t help Clemson with their new project of birth control for squirrels. Death is a form of birth control is it not?
Thanks to the illustrious DG we now have pretty pictures and numbers to look at again. For those of you racing the Race to the River this weekend, I will see you there.
If you are in the NC/SC area this weekend you better go do the Save the Trails challenge this weekend. The course is pretty awesome considering I designed it myself. Let me clear my throat, eha eha.
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Preperation
Pictures are from Kristin and me during a hike this past Monday. Can you believe this boy's tounge?
Last night I stopped by Sunrift on my way to Paris with UDM. I am trying to procure some children’s bikes for the Friends and Family Day at Paris mountain. UpState SORBA is participating in the day by setting up a booth and we are looking to include some activities along with children’s rides.
After talking with them I took off on my normal route to Paris. Once inside the park I took a new to me route down Firetower to Kanuga but I took a right hand turn headed toward Brissy. From there I rode all the way down Pippsessewa. Incorporating those three trails together makes for a pretty hefty downhill.
Last weekend I made the leap for some Ergon grips. I had been skeptical but after talking with some of my friends who also ride non-springy bikes I thought I would give them a shot. I took the advice of a seasoned veteran on the bike and left the grips loose on the handlebars the first few rides so I could adjust them appropriately. Up until last night, I liked them but I didn’t think I would leave them on for everyday riding.
Well last night I made a few more adjustments to the angle at which they are parked on the handlebars and wow what a difference. They even felt good through the little tech spots.
After going around the lake, I decided I would try my chances at climbing the steep section of Kanuga back up to Firetower. Holy cow this is a mother of a climb. There was one spot that I had to hoof it for about 20 yards to get around a steep muddy section but other than that I made it up no problem. Besides the fact that I sounded like I was going through labor, I was giving birth to a new climb. It felt pretty good even with the 34X21 which I think might be the magical number for Cohutta
Last night I stopped by Sunrift on my way to Paris with UDM. I am trying to procure some children’s bikes for the Friends and Family Day at Paris mountain. UpState SORBA is participating in the day by setting up a booth and we are looking to include some activities along with children’s rides.
After talking with them I took off on my normal route to Paris. Once inside the park I took a new to me route down Firetower to Kanuga but I took a right hand turn headed toward Brissy. From there I rode all the way down Pippsessewa. Incorporating those three trails together makes for a pretty hefty downhill.
Last weekend I made the leap for some Ergon grips. I had been skeptical but after talking with some of my friends who also ride non-springy bikes I thought I would give them a shot. I took the advice of a seasoned veteran on the bike and left the grips loose on the handlebars the first few rides so I could adjust them appropriately. Up until last night, I liked them but I didn’t think I would leave them on for everyday riding.
Well last night I made a few more adjustments to the angle at which they are parked on the handlebars and wow what a difference. They even felt good through the little tech spots.
After going around the lake, I decided I would try my chances at climbing the steep section of Kanuga back up to Firetower. Holy cow this is a mother of a climb. There was one spot that I had to hoof it for about 20 yards to get around a steep muddy section but other than that I made it up no problem. Besides the fact that I sounded like I was going through labor, I was giving birth to a new climb. It felt pretty good even with the 34X21 which I think might be the magical number for Cohutta
Monday, April 07, 2008
Undead Drunken Monkey
Damn it feels good to be a gangsta’
We were up and at it real early on Saturday. We were headed to Columbia to drop off SCS Monkey and Undead Drunken Monkey for the parts swap. I showed up with six chicken biscuits in hand and a suitcase of beer for the boyz. I instructed them to try and refrain from the drinking until my bike was complete.
From there, we were headed out for a long day in Charleston. Meeting up with our friends downtown for lunch and then off to a wedding reception in Summerville followed by a late night drive back to Kristin’s house in Columbia. All in all I was up for almost 19 hours straight. TMHTE prepared me for this type of day.
Up Sunday morning for an ultra-secret pick up of the UDM. Once we were home the dogs were so happy to see us I thought the world might implode around us. Shade did his “ohhhh my god every time your gone it seems like forever” dance and after throwing the ball a zillion and one times for Buddy it was time to mount my trusty stead for the first time in eight days.
Last week I started to realize that the bike gods are actually on my side. I had just failed to see the half-full cup. These broken frames that I experience seem to always happen before a major event. For example, the first time I did the ORAMM, my SUGAR 292 cracked three weeks beforehand and I ended up riding a CAKE in the race instead of my 29’er. Yes, I have been riding 29’ers for over 3 years now.
Two weeks before the SM-100 my CAKE broke and I was forced to ride a new bike in that race. I am sure there were some other incidents as well but my mind is failing me. With all of this going on you would think that would have broken a frame in a race by now but it has “yet” to happen. Its only a matter of time before it does but so far the God’s of two wheels have blessed me.
After being sick all last week and not doing anything exercise related I thought that I might suffer on this ride. I rode from the house up the Swamp Rabbit Trail, up Altamont, dropped in the park, rode firetower, Kaunga, Lake loop twice, climbed Pippsissewa, Dropped Brissy, took the backside road up to the top, rode the downhill course all the way to the bottom of Mountain creek, left the park via the front entrance, back roads to the front side of Altamont, over the king of the mountain, back to Furman on the SRT home.
I have no idea how far that is but I am guessing around 40. With that distance and climbing Paris three times I am satisfied. My legs felt great as they had their biggest break in a LONG time. My body felt like crap as my sinuses and sickness are still lingering but the mocha frappachino peanut butter cup induced sugar coma that I had climbing Paris the last time sure did help.
Nothing in particular to note about the ride besides the following:
Climbing the backside of Paris (inside the park) I heard a squirrel come running and looked up just in time to see him huck a 10 foot embankment down into a pile of leaves off the side of the road. He hit with the elegance of an extreme skier sticking a 100 foot drop into 10 feet of powder and then popped out of the leaves in an instant running across the road in front of me. It made me laugh out loud.
As I was leaving the park I realized Sunrift was having their demo day in the park and I almost stopped to ask if this poor fellow needed help loading a Kayak high on the multi-stacked trailer. As I climbed the small grunt climb to the road I heard BONNG, BONGG, dunkadunkadunka and looked back to see the kayak now lying on the ground. WHOOPS.
The crazy part is that once I passed Sunrift again on my way home I saw them unloading the same Kayaks.
Its good to have a bike again.
We were up and at it real early on Saturday. We were headed to Columbia to drop off SCS Monkey and Undead Drunken Monkey for the parts swap. I showed up with six chicken biscuits in hand and a suitcase of beer for the boyz. I instructed them to try and refrain from the drinking until my bike was complete.
From there, we were headed out for a long day in Charleston. Meeting up with our friends downtown for lunch and then off to a wedding reception in Summerville followed by a late night drive back to Kristin’s house in Columbia. All in all I was up for almost 19 hours straight. TMHTE prepared me for this type of day.
Up Sunday morning for an ultra-secret pick up of the UDM. Once we were home the dogs were so happy to see us I thought the world might implode around us. Shade did his “ohhhh my god every time your gone it seems like forever” dance and after throwing the ball a zillion and one times for Buddy it was time to mount my trusty stead for the first time in eight days.
Last week I started to realize that the bike gods are actually on my side. I had just failed to see the half-full cup. These broken frames that I experience seem to always happen before a major event. For example, the first time I did the ORAMM, my SUGAR 292 cracked three weeks beforehand and I ended up riding a CAKE in the race instead of my 29’er. Yes, I have been riding 29’ers for over 3 years now.
Two weeks before the SM-100 my CAKE broke and I was forced to ride a new bike in that race. I am sure there were some other incidents as well but my mind is failing me. With all of this going on you would think that would have broken a frame in a race by now but it has “yet” to happen. Its only a matter of time before it does but so far the God’s of two wheels have blessed me.
After being sick all last week and not doing anything exercise related I thought that I might suffer on this ride. I rode from the house up the Swamp Rabbit Trail, up Altamont, dropped in the park, rode firetower, Kaunga, Lake loop twice, climbed Pippsissewa, Dropped Brissy, took the backside road up to the top, rode the downhill course all the way to the bottom of Mountain creek, left the park via the front entrance, back roads to the front side of Altamont, over the king of the mountain, back to Furman on the SRT home.
I have no idea how far that is but I am guessing around 40. With that distance and climbing Paris three times I am satisfied. My legs felt great as they had their biggest break in a LONG time. My body felt like crap as my sinuses and sickness are still lingering but the mocha frappachino peanut butter cup induced sugar coma that I had climbing Paris the last time sure did help.
Nothing in particular to note about the ride besides the following:
Climbing the backside of Paris (inside the park) I heard a squirrel come running and looked up just in time to see him huck a 10 foot embankment down into a pile of leaves off the side of the road. He hit with the elegance of an extreme skier sticking a 100 foot drop into 10 feet of powder and then popped out of the leaves in an instant running across the road in front of me. It made me laugh out loud.
As I was leaving the park I realized Sunrift was having their demo day in the park and I almost stopped to ask if this poor fellow needed help loading a Kayak high on the multi-stacked trailer. As I climbed the small grunt climb to the road I heard BONNG, BONGG, dunkadunkadunka and looked back to see the kayak now lying on the ground. WHOOPS.
The crazy part is that once I passed Sunrift again on my way home I saw them unloading the same Kayaks.
Its good to have a bike again.
Thursday, April 03, 2008
Going Back To My Roots
I am sick as a dog this week, its raining and my bike is going to get re-built real soon. So I thought I would share a story. Story time kids.
The year was 2002 and the month was June. I had just moved to Columbia and I remember coming home from work, not having anything to do. Sure I would go to the gym sometimes but that wasn’t any fun. I needed some stress relief now that I was a “professional” in the real world.
This is when I started taking my Schwinn out to Harbison State Forest in Columbia. I had a heavy rigid bike with flat pedals sans cages, no helmet, gears and rode in cotton with no water. Hell, I didn’t even know how to change a flat. However, somehow, I still fell in love.
One day my trusty steed stopped shifting altogether and all my mechanical prowess (which stops just short of using a screwdriver) couldn’t bring her back. I left her outside my apartment door knowing someone would steal it. It was stolen the night I left it out. I just hoped whoever stole it was as frustrated as I was with the shifting.
That same year my father gave me my first true mountain bike and I fell in love with the sport. Eventually I even learned how to change a flat tire and started putting a brain bucket on my head.
A year or so later I met a group of like minded folks one day while out on the trails and the next thing I knew I had friends to ride with. A lot of these guys and gals would talk about racing. I was never going to race though I told myself. Too much dedication without proper balance forces the love out of things. I had learned that at an early age.
The only reason I rode a mountain bike was for the endorphin filled downhills. Who likes that silly climbing business anyway? That is for sissies who want to look like Tom Cruise I thought. Real men went down. Where is the ski lift?
However, as I gained fitness and learned of a local Race that happened to be coming up I decided I would race. After much pondering, I thought I would bypass the beginner class and suit up with the sport riders. At this point in my riding, I was riding a Gary Fisher Sugar 292 and that fully suspended bike made me feel like I could fly.
To this day, I can still remember standing at the start line, not knowing anyone around me just wondering what was going to happen. I remember one person in particular saying “Well this is a pretty good turn out, looks like we will find out who is the fastest sport rider in Columbia.”
“Go!” and we were off. I am not sure what got in my head but I guess I figured I could slow everyone down if I got the hole shot. So I pinned it out of the gate down a rock road, right turn onto another gravel road and a quick right into the single track. I was in the lead!! Holy crap I thought how in the hell did this happen? After a few minutes I realized that this was like any other riding I had done. You just mash the pedals and hope nobody comes up from behind. I did it for two laps that totaled something like 15 miles. I never saw a soul in that race and finished numero uno about a minute ahead of second place. This mountain bike racing is easy cheese I thought. Never again have I ever even seen the podium at a race. There wasn’t a podium at this race either so even at the one race that I won I got gypped.
This race was a series at Harbison called The Race to the River put on by the local shops in the area. I can’t even begin to explain how this race and the 24 hours of Southern Lights changed my life. It made me realize that I have the potential to fail at so much more in my life than just life itself. (sorry for those of you who are not in the know and would not get this joke, just “ha ha” a little anyway)
This is why I am looking forward to this year’s Race to the River on April 12th. Kristin and I have to be in Columbia anyway so why not race? This year I will be doing the exact opposite from that year so long ago. I will be entering the expert class with one gear and no suspension and I will have the full expectation of coming in last. I have found over the years that this is the best way to get the most bang for your buck. I might put on a big tall gear so I can sprint and talk smack to the riders for the first mile or so but then I will settle into my own slow pace and just relish in the fact that I am back in the roots.
If you are able to ride, be happy.
Peace
The year was 2002 and the month was June. I had just moved to Columbia and I remember coming home from work, not having anything to do. Sure I would go to the gym sometimes but that wasn’t any fun. I needed some stress relief now that I was a “professional” in the real world.
This is when I started taking my Schwinn out to Harbison State Forest in Columbia. I had a heavy rigid bike with flat pedals sans cages, no helmet, gears and rode in cotton with no water. Hell, I didn’t even know how to change a flat. However, somehow, I still fell in love.
One day my trusty steed stopped shifting altogether and all my mechanical prowess (which stops just short of using a screwdriver) couldn’t bring her back. I left her outside my apartment door knowing someone would steal it. It was stolen the night I left it out. I just hoped whoever stole it was as frustrated as I was with the shifting.
That same year my father gave me my first true mountain bike and I fell in love with the sport. Eventually I even learned how to change a flat tire and started putting a brain bucket on my head.
A year or so later I met a group of like minded folks one day while out on the trails and the next thing I knew I had friends to ride with. A lot of these guys and gals would talk about racing. I was never going to race though I told myself. Too much dedication without proper balance forces the love out of things. I had learned that at an early age.
The only reason I rode a mountain bike was for the endorphin filled downhills. Who likes that silly climbing business anyway? That is for sissies who want to look like Tom Cruise I thought. Real men went down. Where is the ski lift?
However, as I gained fitness and learned of a local Race that happened to be coming up I decided I would race. After much pondering, I thought I would bypass the beginner class and suit up with the sport riders. At this point in my riding, I was riding a Gary Fisher Sugar 292 and that fully suspended bike made me feel like I could fly.
To this day, I can still remember standing at the start line, not knowing anyone around me just wondering what was going to happen. I remember one person in particular saying “Well this is a pretty good turn out, looks like we will find out who is the fastest sport rider in Columbia.”
“Go!” and we were off. I am not sure what got in my head but I guess I figured I could slow everyone down if I got the hole shot. So I pinned it out of the gate down a rock road, right turn onto another gravel road and a quick right into the single track. I was in the lead!! Holy crap I thought how in the hell did this happen? After a few minutes I realized that this was like any other riding I had done. You just mash the pedals and hope nobody comes up from behind. I did it for two laps that totaled something like 15 miles. I never saw a soul in that race and finished numero uno about a minute ahead of second place. This mountain bike racing is easy cheese I thought. Never again have I ever even seen the podium at a race. There wasn’t a podium at this race either so even at the one race that I won I got gypped.
This race was a series at Harbison called The Race to the River put on by the local shops in the area. I can’t even begin to explain how this race and the 24 hours of Southern Lights changed my life. It made me realize that I have the potential to fail at so much more in my life than just life itself. (sorry for those of you who are not in the know and would not get this joke, just “ha ha” a little anyway)
This is why I am looking forward to this year’s Race to the River on April 12th. Kristin and I have to be in Columbia anyway so why not race? This year I will be doing the exact opposite from that year so long ago. I will be entering the expert class with one gear and no suspension and I will have the full expectation of coming in last. I have found over the years that this is the best way to get the most bang for your buck. I might put on a big tall gear so I can sprint and talk smack to the riders for the first mile or so but then I will settle into my own slow pace and just relish in the fact that I am back in the roots.
If you are able to ride, be happy.
Peace
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