WNDC - Gives Back

Thanks to Clay for the pictures.

WNDC - involved some quick rock armoring on the steep rutted section of corn mill shoals inbetween Shoals and Laurel Ridge right before the rock wall ride.

Had my first STANS flat in awhile. The sidewall just above the bead was torn enough to justify a tube. Twelve minute flat change according to Clay's timer, not bad for a slacker like myself.

To the trail work:

Mine Mountain -> Laurel Ridge -> Corn Mill Shoals

After hefting some one person, two person and even a three person rock we armored quickly and were on our way.

After Work:

Corn Mill Shoals -> Shoals -> Laurel Ridge -> Airstrip -> Shelter Rock -> Corn Mill Shoals -> Laurel Ridge -> Fawn Lake

We saw Woody again coming down Airstrip, he was out with the leaf blower drying the trails, now that's dedication!!

I can deal with rock armoring when it is a party of three. The de-berming done last week helped with the after rain puddles but there is still some cleanup work to be done.

Don't forget about another work day this Saturday at Dupont.

Am I dying? Is This PMBAR?

Those were two questions I asked myself during yesterday’s ride.

Our route:

Black Mountain -> Turkey Pen -> Vineyard Gap -> Riverside -> Bradley -> Squirrel -> S. Mills River -> Buckhorn -> Black Mountain

After staying up too late, drinking too many beers and eating too many cupfuls of homemade chocolate ice cream goodness, I decided I would get up at 5:45 in the morning and join Clay on his “training ride.” His main goal for the day being to climb 10,000 feet, we ended up 1,000 feet short.

Does anyone remember what Pisgah is like when it is actually fulfilling its temperate rainforest status? You know the trails are sustainable not mushy but every other element on the trail reminds you that those 2.3 Stout’s aren’t for impressing the ladies. Yeah it was slick the kind of slick that you tell people about but they just don’t listen until they are lying there on the ground looking at you like a puppy dog that just had his last bite of Kibbles and Bits taken from him.

I hadn’t done a long ride in quite awhile and it was apparent. I knew I was going to be slow up Black and I announced this early as Clay and Dennis took off in time trial mode ahead of me. I made it a point to try and clean everything going up the first section but I slipped and fell once while pushing the bike. I think I was actually riding < 10% of the climb. (That’s less than ten percent for those of you who didn’t major in math)

With thoughts of my re-injured wrist on my mind, I had told myself that I was going to take it real easy going down Turkey Pen as it was death snot slick and raining more at this point. Did I mention it was slick?

Turkey Pen was fast until it wasn’t and then it was fast again. The laurels and rhodo leaves were so thick that it felt like you were riding through a car wash with every pedal stroke. At times, you couldn’t see anything but a sea of green, pedal and pray was the theme. My fork was magical since I had acquired an extra 20 millimeters of travel the day before. It helped me stay upright on the super steep switchback and water bars.

Vineyard Gap is a fine piece of single track.

Squirrel, I had saved energy for this bad boy as I know how it is on a slick day. It took all my concentration and energy. Supposedly Clay and Dennis “fell” victim to squirrel’s nastiness but they didn’t look any worse for wear when I saw them crossing the bridge on S. Mills River from below. I had spent my time alone lying in the river trying to levitate my vehicle over Black Mountain and swoop down for a spaceship style extraction.

Slogging up S. Mills and Buckhorn I had convinced myself that I was taking the easy way out (clawhammer, 477, 276) and there was nothing anyone could say to me to change my mind.

When I got to the gap, Clay said something that convinced me I should plod on, he has a way with words. I cussed his name to the full extent with every aching step I took. I was so slow I actually lay down in defiance of stepping any further until I realized I wasn’t getting any further with this technique. I ran out of water for the second time at the top and kept using Jedi mind tricks to bring my cooler closer to my mouth.

After some not-so-spectacular descending and the last hike-a-bike to Hickory Knob, it was all over like a great wet dream turned nightmare I was finally acquainted with my cooler. Nice ride fellas.

Good Luck To ORAMM Racers

I have had the pleasure of many fine rides as of late. Its nice to feel strong on the bike again and I hope it can carry me through The Most Horrible Thing Ever.

I don't have much to say about the rides as of late as I have been more into enjoying them than writing about them.

I can say good friends, fast technical descents and technical ascents make for great mountain biking and it will soon be time to give back to the forest for Fall ride time consumption.

Rode the Paris Mountain downhill the other day, that thing is getting GNARLY.

Good vibes to all and I will see the lucky ones at Barley's tonight!!

Nobody Go Stealin' My Idea Now. . .

SOOOOOOOO, I have heard through the grapevine that NORAMM is really starting to make its way through the local scene.

I figured I better throw something out there while I still have time.

First off I would like to say that I had my first Bear sighting in NC. It was pretty sweet and I definitely did a double take as darkness was closing in. I think the bear have caught wind of WNDC and was trying to find his way.

Shew, now where were we? Oh yeah, the third annual NORAMM. Let's see last year it was Damascus as I was healing the broken wrist. The year before it was NMR. So I haven't really decided on where this year yet but I was thinking if we started going up HeartBreak around Noon on Sunday. . . ok I am not that much of a hater but it would be quite funny. Uphill rider's have the right of way. . .

So anyway, stay tuned it will definitely be the weeked of ORAMM but not sure if the date will be Saturday or Sunday. If anyone has any suggestions on the date speak up, if anyone has any suggestions on the route, shut the hell up.

I am thinking of charging $5.00 this year. What do you get for your $5.00 you may ask? Well, you need to bring your five spot to me along with your bottles that you are carrying for the day and I will abruptly pour your bottles out onto the gravel and fill them with beer as this is a no water ride, DUH.

Déjà vu?

Lake Jocassee

It Has To Be Told

Last night at WNDC we have a great ride and then the fun times commenced. I had taken a couple extra trails at the end of the ride after everyone left me spinning by my lonesome back to the car. So of course when I show up, everyone is in relax mode and I was asked if I had a hanger in my car.

It turns out some high school kid had locked his keys in his car. Well we were chilling watching this not-so-adept car thief while waiting for a hiker in our group to return.

So as we sip our beverages we watch as the plan of action went from cell phone calling to trying to break into the car. Eventually DG in our crew suggested that a detachable truck or car antennae could be used to get the keys.

Then with a loud pop one of the kids had pulled off a truck antennae and started trying to wedge it into the window of the car. Hope you don’t like listening to the radio mister.

As dusk grew ever darker our hiker party showed up and cheers came from the high school crowd. However, they were premature in their celebration as the car was not unlocked.

This frustrated the young soul to use the utmost dire technique in locked car key retrieval. A LFR (Little Fucking Rock) was grabbed and tossed at the window, no breakage. So a SBFR (Slighty Bigger Fucking Rock) was grabbed and thrown at the window twice, no breakage. MIT may not take this kid’s application but at least he was persistent.

Our group of Mechanical Engineers couldn’t take it anymore. As it was truly dark (we had flashlights or the teenie boppers would have been dead in the water) our group used flashlights and a slightly more experienced antennae key retrieval technique and within 10 minutes, voila car is open. Celebration and “thank you’s” flowed like the Salmon of Capistrano.

AHHHHHHHHHH WNDC, you never let me down do you.

Sumter Metric Century

After “pre-riding” this course last year during a fundraiser, I knew I needed to take a LOT of gear inches with me as the climbing on this course around Midwestern South Carolina was miniscule at best. I decided to try something really stupid and throw some big volume cross tires on the Drunken Monkey along with a 34X15.

After unsuccessfully trying to mount the tires tubeless and destroying two tubes on the back tire setting them up with tubes, I was just sort of hoping I could get through the race with out DNF’ing from flats. I HATE running tubes in races.

After a 4:30 AM wakeup call, I met up with 3 other WNDC members and we took off headed deeper into the red clay region known as the Central Savannah River Area. When I used to live in Columbia, I scouted these trails alone and always thought it would be a great idea to link them together and that is exactly what this race is all about.

After a quick and easy race day registration, I staged my bike and got ready for the LeMan’s trot.

During the trot, I heard The Hawley Blog himself commenting on my trotting pace, “I like that pace you got Jonathon.” I think what he meant to say was that if my shorts (plaid) were any indication of my speed, than I had hit ludicrous speed.

On the bike I thought I might have been the first SS into the woods but I must have been wrong even though it would take me a long time to figure that out. I hadn’t tried the 60 PSI cross tires on any trail so I was anxious to see if I could keep it upright through the first section of root filled single-track.

It was obvious that I was going to be slightly slower than normal on the single track but I still kept a decent pace and I only had to let a few riders by, one being a SS that I hoped I would catch once things would flatten out. After a lot of banging around I was out on the first gravel section of the day and had kept it upright even though riding the skinny tires through the woods was intense and not pretty.

Instead of making a point to track the only SS’er that I knew was ahead of me down, I chatted with several folks for a bit and just generally realized that even on the gravel I was having a hard time spinning the gear up to speed. The tires were a great call but the gear was too much for me to handle, oh well.

After grabbing some bottle refills at the first 20 mile checkpoint I took off on the flat single track that is Wine, I love this trail it goes on and on as a tight six inch ribbon of single track that is meant for the big ring. I carefully negotiated the first and only technical rocks on the course and then took off. The only other scare tactic the trail uses against you are all the wet and slippery bridges. Most of the bridges have mesh over them to prevent a disaster and I was really enjoying myself through this section.

As I started to get into a groove I came up on one bridge real fast and realized it did not have mesh. I had to check my speed and tried an easy pull of the brakes but found myself sliding off the bridge next to my bike. No harm no foul, I was up quickly and back up to speed in no time.

Turkey was a repeat of Wine and I was happy to see the gravel and spin my legs out for a bit. At the second rest stop I had a sag bag waiting for me and it was SOOOOO hot I could only drink one of my precious yuenglings to keep the WNDC alive and choked down a ham sandwich. This of course occurred after I laid my bike down in the middle of a poison ivy patch. I had an extra tube in my sag as I was only carrying one but I left it there as I had not flatted.

Two miles away from the rest stop and 36 miles into the race I flatted. Right as I had the tube change in, the rolling dying rider lookout truck came into view and asked me if I would like a floor pump, hell yeah I want a floor pump I have to get this tire back up to 55 PSI. Even at that pressure the tire felt squishy and I was now out of tubes unless I wanted to ride back and get an extra, NO WAY. I had 30 miles to go and just had to hope it wouldn’t go flat again as nobody was going to have the right sized tubes.

I hit Modoc (Stephen’s Creek as I know it) and was surprisingly able to ride most of the 5.5 miles. I love this trail and was having a good time in the mud as we had just missed a thunderstorm. After a couple miles and passing people I came across a twisted bridge that people were falling off of trying to walk across the thing.

I hopped down into the creek and crossed that thing through the water. I didn’t need anymore of those experiences today.

Out of MODOC, more water and Powerade and I was on my way for the last grueling 15 miles along gravel and pavement. The worst part about the last section is that I was just barely catching up to some folks so I could see how far ahead of me they were on the highway and it looked like they were riding to Charleston.

Crossed the finish line in just under 6 hours and 3rd single speed out of 7 riders, I was waaaaay behind the first two and it adds to the learning lesson of gear ratios.

Great time, thanks to CSRA and all the volunteers, that was the best after ride burger I have had in awhile plus I got a sweet pint glass for my effort.

Appearances are Everything

Here it appears as though I am about to ride my bike, did I?

Thanks to Clay for the picture. He has been covering the WNDC quite well this year and its nice to read but I figured it was time for an update.

Yesterday was one of the best editions of the WNDC yet this year. We had the reigning DSG mud champion with us down from the Midwest along with some Creole crew, or is it Cajun? I always forget, anyway we had at least four states represented with 11 riders.

The route was a big one which included some of my favorites in the forest:

Reasonover -> Camp Summit -> Airstrip -> Shelter Rock -> Barn Trail -> Bridal Veil Falls Road -> Conservation -> Johanna -> Twin Oaks -> Briery Fork -> Grassy Creek -> Sandy -> Tarklin Branch -> (quick stop on the kids ‘skills’ trail) Holly Mountain -> RidgeLine -> Jim Branch -> Isaac Heath Locust -> Lake Imaging -> Buck Forest Rd -> Conservation -> Airstrip -> Fawn Lake Loop

I am always up for a classic tour of the forest when someone new and skilled shows up to ride. However, neither slick rock nor Burnt Mountain was ridden. Judging by the looks on everyone’s faces after Ridgeline, I don’t think anyone was let down. I think I heard “I can’t imagine a trail getting better than that” coming from someone.

The kids trail always turns out more injuries than any other. One was a victim of a knee bashing and I was almost victim of a groin pull trying to exit a skinny.


I can never really write enough about Ridgeline. Something about the far sight lines combined with high speed ripping sounding turns just gets me all emotional. I even entered and exited the log ride at a high speed but had to leap off a little early instead of leaving it all to chance. I had a “roadie tanned” Beefcake behind me laughing like a 5 year old coming down a four minute slip and slide which added to the hilarity of it all.

Good times for sure.

Thanks to ZB, I will be trying a tubeless cross tire 34 X 15 setup for this weekend’s Sumter Metric Century. It will either be a great idea or a disaster but it should make for good story telling either way. I plan to be on the lookout for cars and any bleach rain drops though so hopefully those exciting details will be left out this go around.

Hears to hoping everyone out there is riding their bikes again. A goat in a mountain shell has turned back up in the WWW, good on ya and I hope our treads will cross again soon.

I didn’t Die and I’m not Blind. PMBAR 2009

Its hard to go out to a Pisgah Production race and not come back with a good story. This year was no exception.

For Joe and me, it was our fourth year competing in PMBAR as a team. We have now completed four PMBAR’s with two 17th place standings as our best.

Earlier in the week Clay and I had talked about how we would need to dedicate our full attention to the racer meeting this year as things were going back to “Old Style PMBAR.” This meant we would be racing for 4 out of 5 checkpoints instead of 7 like the last couple years with the fifth checkpoint counting as a 2 hour time bonus.

I had good intentions of listening to the race meeting but I was having a hard time because I thought I might be going blind in the left eye. I had inadvertently grabbed my eye-dropper full of bleach instead of my eye drops about 10 minutes before the start of the racer meeting. Luckily the sting was so bad on the first drop I didn’t add anymore and instead just sat there hoping that putting the “real” eye drops in would help flush the bleach and I wouldn’t go blind. I do know for a fact that your eye can survive minimal contact with bleach. Remember kids, moderation is key.

I had heard the most important rule though, all the rules are on the map and we start/finish on Black Mountain just like previous years.

So we decided to take off up the mountain and look at the map later. I figured I would be walking soon enough and I would pull out the map and look at the checkpoints while we were walking.

Joe took off ahead of me and just as I was ready to start jockeying for position a bunch of gearies jumped in front of me going into the single track and dropped it into the granny gear. This frustrated me so I decided to just huff it by them without a call out. Its important to try and win PMBAR on the first turn.

After making the turn past Thrift and up the steep switchback I had Joe grab the map out of my pack and I read the checkpoints off in my head twice. By the time we made it to the descent headed to Pressley Gap, I had chosen our route for the day and had already waved 5 checkpoints off as ridiculous for my current fitness level.

It was fun flying through Pressley with everyone sitting there staring at the maps because I knew we were headed to Turkey Pen.

Our route for the day:

Black -> Turkey Pen -> S. Mills River -> Mullinax -> Squirrel -> Horse Cove -> 5018 -> 476 -> 1206 –> Pilot Rock (out and back) -> 1206 -> 276 - > 475 -> 225 (out and back) -> 475 -> 276 -> 477 -> Clawhammer -> Maxwell -> Black

I made most of the route decisions pretty quickly in my mind but for awhile I thought we would descend Laurel and hit 5000 instead of 225 but then Joe told me he had never ridden Pilot. So today would be his first hike up Pilot and his first descent on Pilot and therefore I changed the fourth checkpoint to 225.

I had a blast on all the single track. Turkey was fast and fun as usual as well as squirrel. The hike up Horse Cove is short. The views from 5018 always blow my mind. I struggled hiking up Pilot but kept eating and felt better and better. I cleaned Pilot coming down (stopping to shake my hands out twice) where Joe had an OTB experience in the rock garden.

As we were headed up Pilot, I saw Wes and Bennett coming down. Then we saw them again as they passed us going down 1206 headed to the West side. That meant they had ridden to 5000 and back in the time that it took us to hike up and descend Pilot. I figured they were flying and in the lead. I started to feel pretty good about my own route choice as I had picked it as a “fun” route.

The ride over to the end of 225 was pretty uneventful. Coming back was a different story.

Back when I would make the drive from Columbia SC to Pisgah, I almost had a brush with a hospital trip while riding on FS 225. I was flying down the hill headed to Cove Creek when I rounded a corner and met a small red car flying up the hill. I pulled a nice hippitty hip hop and narrowly missed the side view mirror by a few inches. This was back in 2003 or 2004.

Now back in 2009, I was off in “peaches N cream” land thinking about everything but riding my bike as we headed from our fourth checkpoint to the finish. I was riding down the hill from the checkpoint and riding smack dab in the center of the road. (Key South Park music DUMB DUMB DUM DADADADUM DUMB DUMMMMMMMB.)

I came around a corner just as a Jeep Grand Cherokee came around the corner the opposite way. I can’t really tell you how but somehow I managed to grab two fistfuls of brake, lay the bike down on its side, plow the front end of the bike into the Jeep and then roll off to the side of the Jeep in one fail swoop. I rolled over a few times on the road and jumped up saying “ohhhh man I am sorry I was not paying attention.” The look on this guy’s face was enough to know that I had just avoided a serious trip to the Hospital and the first true test of my healthcare plan at work. I continued to apologize as the guy put his jeep in reverse and pulled back away from my bike. Luckily he had quick reflexes and had stopped before actually running over the entire bike. I surveyed for damange, the only thing missing was my front carbon brake lever (why do they make those out of carbon again?) I found the lever lying on the ground, stuck it in my pack and we were on our way. No harm no foul.

From there it was an easy adrenalin filled cruise back to the start finish. The only time I missed the front brake was coming down Black but it didn’t slow me up nearly as bad as missing ¼ of my handle bar like last year.
That was one of the best ones yet Eric and volunteers!!!! Thanks so much for allowing me to live an event filled life.

Gear Heads

PMBAR PHENOM

Every ride that I have been on in Pisgah this year has started one of two ways. Straight up Black Mountain Trail or Sycamore Cove to Black Mountain trail.

One ride recently was an excellent loop; brain child of CF, part of the steel bike breaker club (you know who you are), I witnessed an amazing event. All three riders that I stopped to grab visual proof of attempting Q-bert rock on Bennett; cleaned the rocks and the switch back with me crouching tiger not-so-hidden photographer right in primo photo position but totally in the way of every rider.

Good times in the mountains of SC and NC.

TMHTE 2009 – Stage 2 & 3

(Picture taken by Mike R.: Farlow during stage 1)

Stage two started as the sun was just coming up and I knew one thing, I had to get the hell out of the campground. Cove Creek had its own micro climate and it was freezing in that camp, a great motivator for going back out to ride.

As you can see in the post below for stage two, the mandatory was Cantrell and S. Mills River. That’s a pretty hefty task from Cove Creek.

Clay and I had decided to ride together for this stage so we discussed routes after Eric told us that there were still some closures due to the “whatever it is that is in the forest that might harm us but a prescribed burn will save us” thing in the woods. Sorry if you don’t know that story but it is a fiasco.

Our ultimate route for the day:

475 -> Davidson River -> 276 -> Pink Beds (Hike) -> Gauging Station -> S. Mills River -> Squirrel -> Horse Cove Gap -> from here we broke up. . .

All the crap before the mandatory is suffering that we worked through together. We had discussed the idea of going back via S. Mills River as Joe and I had done during the Double Dare this past October. I was up for it until I saw it. . .

I said “No way.” Clay said “Come on I will take your picture.” I said “no way, you first.”

TMHTE 2009 Clay Faine Crossing S. Mills River from pisgahproductions on Vimeo.
Clay gets the official “He is crazier than the Tomato award for 2009 on this one”. He steps into the water that is almost completely frozen over with four inch thick melting ice covering the fast moving river. Steps gingerly up onto the ice and gets about ¾ of the way across when he broke through, now he had huge 15 foot chunks of ice moving around him in the water so he had to break through it to get across. Now imagine having to do this 10 times. . .OH GOD I THOUGHT. (Picture by Clay: Me "testing the waters")

I tried to negotiate the water but it was obvious that I was not going to make it and the thought of falling in water colder than the Colorado made me realize I wanted to stay warm no matter how much climbing was involved.

Clay and I proceeded to do the, “You come over here, NO, you come over here” for a few minutes and then we bid adieu.

After that it was a hike-a-bike back up Horse Cove to Squirrel -> S. Mills -> Buckhorn -> Clawhammer -> 477 -> 276 -> 475 -> Davidson River Trail.

I made it back to camp and I was feeling pretty good. I hung around waiting for Kristin to show up and when she did I took off on Stage 3. Mandatory check point being the top of Farlow, sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet, Clay had called it earlier in the day.

I left at 6:00 with no idea how long it would take me. I found out pretty quickly that most of the teams were hitting the checkpoint and coming straight back down the road. That’s not my style.

The climb up Pilot Mountain Road was exactly what I had expected. A slog fest and I rode much more than I figured I could. It was quickly approaching 20 hours into the race and I felt good but the legs were losing power on the SS.

As I got closer to the top of the road, the moon came up and the Coyotes went wild. I was semi-hallucinating from sleep deprivation but the Coyotes were real and making wicked sounds that I hadn’t heard in a very long time since riding Dupont at night by myself.

When I made it to the checkpoint, I gathered my wits and went crazy riding down Farlow. I made it to the tree where 20 hours previously I had made the harrowing pass going up the beast that I was now descending. I rode a lot more than I would have expected including the log ride that starts flat and turns round. After coming off the log I realized I better pull it in a notch. I nabbed my second checkpoint for stage 3 and then had a blast coming down Daniel knowing all I had to do was climb the road back to camp and I could call it a night.

Back at camp, Eric informed me that I would take the “lead” if I were to head out on Stage 4. Even though I felt good I knew Stage 4 would take a long time and it was now 9:00 pm on the second night. I called it a night knowing my race was over. A great excuse being no vacation time left at work and a heavy Monday workload.

Great Race Eric and thanks so much to all the volunteers that helped!! I will finish this beast someday and then I might never do it again or. . .

Just as a side note, I was able to get in a hike and a ride on Sunday after freezing in my bag all night at camp.

Ride on Sunday with David George, Valerie and myself:

475 -> ????? -> Butter Gap -> Cat Gap -> Davidson River

Good times!!

The Most Horrible Thing Ever 2009, Official Halfway’er

(Picture - Clay before the start)

Two years in a row I have made it halfway in this horrible race. Last year Dennis and I accomplished the halfway mark and this year I did it solo.


Its Two O-clock AM Saturday morning and while most humans on the East Coast are vast asleep in a dream world, I am pushing my rigid single speed Karate Monkey up Farlow Gap. As it is rare to push up Farlow (this was my third time) its even more rare to have company. So being the sort of person I am, I was trying to start a party. I talked most everyone up, about where they were from, why they decided to do “The Most Horrible Thing Ever” so on and so forth. However, no one was in the partying mood, I took the hint and pressed on with my mouth halfway shut.

Just then, as we headed to the true hike-a-bike section on Farlow I saw the lights of our documentation crew which consists of Mike N’ team. I had been chatty with the two fellows in front of me but NOW IT WAS ON! I was three hours into a 36 hour race and time was precious so I yelled “ON YOUR RIGHT” and stormed off the trail and around the team in front of me for a valiant pass. The craziest thing about being somewhere in the middle of the night/morning is that no one really laughed at the time but I knew that memory would stick. It just so happened that I would remember this moment 20 hours later when I would descend the same trail I was ascending now.

Let’s back up a couple hours to right before the start of the race. I wake up in my tent, and thoughts of the Grand Canyon flood my mind as I slept in that same tent 90% of the time during my trip down the Colorado in January. Then I heard the same wicked sound I had heard this past October at 5:30 am at White Pines “ding-ding. . . ding-ding” it was Eric’s dainty warning that the racer meeting was about to begin. “Holy Cow” I thought, I am not at all ready. I had fallen asleep at 9:00 and now it was 11:45. The race starts in 15 minutes.
Needless to say, I was a little late starting. Clay and I had discussed riding together the weekend before but when he realized I wasn’t really ready, he took off. If I wasn’t the last racer to leave camp, I was very close.

Here were the stages and we were on Stage 1:

I really wanted to go slow for obvious reasons but I was also motivated to catch Clay as I knew he could be caught because of a pending injury. You gotta kick a guy where it hurts ya know.
So it is with this mission that I trudged up 475B. I saw many, talked to everyone and then at Cove Creek I saw Peter. I commented that it was good to see him healthy this year as he was sick the year before and pressed on.

(Picture - Peter's bike on Cove Creek's entrance)
Nothing like coming down the paint shaker (cove creek) first thing in the middle of the night to wake you up, I cussed Mr. Pisgah Productions for bringing us back to camp so quickly so I made my amends by stopping and having some pizza and a beer.
I chatted with Erinna about how far everyone was ahead. Not that it mattered, its just fun to be in the know.

Next up was Daniel Ridge and ultimately Farlow from Daniel. I started passing some more folks and just generally having a good time riding the SS way too much but its so fun.
After the fiasco on Farlow with no one wanting to party with me, I quickly went down 140A. I was taking it slow bouncing around in the rocks thanking myself for rocking tubeless again (not one flat in 21 hours for me) when I came across Clay with a flat. SWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETTTTTTT SOMEONE TO PARTY WITH!!!!!!!!!!!

I stopped and bragged about how fast I was while Clay fumbled with the flat. We partied and then I helped him stuff all of his crap back into his useless saddle bag. If you want a real damn bag, order one from Epic Designs! I haven’t broke the thing yet so it just might be indestructible.
Clay and I pushed on, we talked about whether or not there was a trail from Courthouse falls to the Devil’s Courthouse and then railed the steep descent on Sumney Cove. We both cleaned that wicked descent and I was stoked beyond belief. I really love that trail and I rarely force myself to go out there, thanks Eric.

Nothing exciting until Butter when clay and I discussed new to us single track, butter was golden as always and really cool because it was frozen. The entire night was very other-worldly because of the deep frost that coated the ground in crystals. It was extremely weird seeing what looked like huge wet mud ruts and then magically your tires would just roll over them due to their frozen nature. (Picture - sleeping bag frozen before the start of the race)

The sun started to show its rays just as I pedaled the road back to camp.

The rest of the race will come tomorrow along with The Most Horrible Video Ever, you won’t believe what you see!!

Night Fiasco on the Colorado River

“Can you help me pick up Wes and Christie?” where the words from Andre that prompted it all. We were at our halfway point on the trip, eight days had passed since we put in at Lee’s Ferry and it was time to drop off five people and pick up 2 leaving us with thirteen for the rest of the trip.

(Picture by Fiona "Hiking" in the Grand Canyon)

To add some background, the Grand Canyon isn’t too cooperative when it comes to leaving or entering the beast from the Colorado River. The only way to make a passenger exchange on the trip is to have whoever wants to leave hike out and whoever wants to join the trip, hike in. On paper, it seems like a simple task but in reality you have to remember that you are literally hiking one mile up or down. It just so happens that in January, the trail can become nothing but glare ice and snow at the top. I had already given my make-shift crampons to one of my comrades that was planning on hiking out the next morning as they hadn’t thought about the icy possibility and they weren’t needed for hikes around the river.

I thought it was going against our agenda picking these folks up in the evening instead the next morning as I had originally thought. However, when Fiona (our trip leader and permit holder) said it would be my only chance to use the one and only pay phone in the entire canyon, I jumped at the proposition as I was longing to speak to Kristin.

So our mission was to travel ½ - ¾ a mile from our camp to Phantom Ranch downriver and on river right as our camp was on river left would seem like a simple task as Andre, Robert, Doug and I all took off to find our new trip goers.

(Picture Blue Skies in the beginning of the Canyon)

After successfully finding out that Wes and Christie were on my page instead of Fiona’s as they had decided to stay in a cabin at Phantom instead of coming back with us, we made our phone calls and headed back to the raft. With new life in my bones after talking with Kristin, I wasn’t worried that the dark was quickly approaching and we still had to oar against the mighty current of the Colorado to make it back to camp.

Seeking comfort I had removed my dry suit and thinking we would simply row our way back to camp I neglected to put it back on. Our first attempt at crossing an eddy line proved the fact that we were in no way going to row this beast of an 18 foot raft loaded with gear back to the camp. I jumped onto shore and donned my dry suit. Andre and I were now on a new mission, to pull the raft up along the shore. We had to create a two person system, one would hold the boat in place (in chest to neck deep water with sharp rocks and ledges underneath your feet) while the other carefully made their way up shore holding the rope. Once in place we would both pull the boat up the shoreline. This process was repeated in the dark about 20 times before we could row again.

(Picture Moon and Beginning Canyon Walls)

We finally saw the light of our camp and knew we had one chance to make it into the eddy on the other side of the river crossing the downstream current. With some vigorous rowing we made it to safety and informed Fiona our trip was fruitless. Well except for those of us who were able to talk to loved ones.

Grand Canyon 2009 (WeakSauce)

So just for giggles, here is one of the pictures from the trip. More words and pictures are to come, this was at Phantom Ranch the halfway point about 110 river miles.

Edge of Chaos

Its wonderful how those words “Edge of Chaos” and the picture Broussard snapped of me this past weekend go together so well.

This past Wednesday, after railing Reasonover in the dark with Dennis hot on my tail the entire time he said “Wow, we were on the edge of chaos.”

I understood what he meant because we were definitely pushing our limits flying around the leaf strewn corners of Reasonover. There were a few turns where I could feel the tires sliding around the corner but they would eventually find their grip and send me in the right direction, sweet mountain biking bliss in the dark of night on a cool fall evening.

Dennis and I split from the rest of the group and made the relentless climb up the steep side of Cedar Rock. Dennis and I both slipped up at the same time even though he was 20 yards ahead of me, then we continued to rock out the rest of the super steep climb.

It was other-worldly when I had a chance to catch my breath and look around at all the moss on the slick rock. With my headlamp reflecting off of the moss and my heartbeat rising to peak, I was in total bliss.

Going fast is finally starting to feel good again.

A big thanks goes out to Zach for the picture and I swear I will share mine at some point. . .

Don't Let The Man Hold YOU DOWN!!

Lately, I have been trying my best to keep balance.

By doing this:

And This:

Not necessarily in that order. Thanks to "Al." and Brad for the pictures.

TMHTE Training Day # 2

I am slack, I still have to link in the pictures, it will happen someday.


Day 2:

I awoke and had to pee so bad it got me out of the warm bag. I laid back down and gathered my riding clothes and shoved them to the bottom of my bag. Once they were warm I suited up and started talking smack to Joe. He said there was NO WAY I could get him to come out of the tent. Ultimately I had to pull the “Son” card on him and he would later tell me he couldn’t believe I said “Logan wouldn’t be proud of his dad if he stayed in bed instead of finishing the race.” It was harsh but it had to be done.

I was terrified to change my front tube in the cold but the thought of pumping it up all day wasn’t exciting either. So I got out of the bag, turned on my stove, drank PBR and heated up ravioli and mac N Cheese together. It was a breakfast of champions and during the cooking and drinking I was able to swap the tube.

We made it to the start 6:15 AM on time and avoided my greatest fear, getting yelled at for being late two years in a row.

The second day started with the climb we all foresaw, Pilot Mountain Hell ooops I mean road. We took our sweet time with team Smoke Bikes, Beth and Ian at the Fish Hatchery as we all cussed Erinna for telling us the bathrooms were open even though we all knew better.

After chatting for a bit, we started the easy climb that would take us to Gloucester. Our ultimate route for day two would be as follows:

White Pines -> 477 -> 276 -> 475 -> Pilot Mountain Road -> Art Loeb -> BRP -> Black Basalm Road -> Ivestor Gap (mandatory checkpoint 1) -> BRP -> **HIKE Seinerd Ridge -> 225 -> Daniel Ridge (checkpoint 2) -> 475 -> Davidson River Trail -> 276 -> Coontree -> Bennett Gap (Checkpoint 3) -> 477 -> Finish

Once I made it to Gloucester, there were a bunch of teams there hanging out. I chatted with Cook for a long time while we feasted on goldfish Cook had brought. Eventually my new partner Nancy showed up at the gap. Cook offered him some goldfish, he took some and ate them dropping some on the ground. Cook and I immediately started picking the dropped fish off of the ground and ate them. There is no wasting in DD.

Cook, Nancy and I all took off up Pilot Mountain Road. Cook and I chatted for a good 1/3 of the climb until I eventually decided to stop and relieve myself. There was no reason to push things as Nancy was not having a good day.

At the top of Pilot Mountain Road I had time to drink a beer, eat some brownies, watch Cook and Cissy take off, chatted up GatorBack and generally just got cold waiting for Nancy. I told Erinna NOT to tell Nancy where we were headed as I knew that’s when the breakdown would start.

Apparently Joe decided to show up for a minute because once he was there he immediately asked “Where is the mandatory.” I told him Ivestor would be a lavish land to see on such a fine day and luckily Nancy stayed away for awhile.

Heading toward Art Loeb and Farlow I saw team Smoke coming toward me and I thought to myself “They are fast!” When I said “What are you doing.” They replied “What are you doing?” I said “headed to Art Loeb. . . “ Luckily I am not the only one who loses my navigational mind whilst Pisgah Productioning.

We hiked Art Loeb, flip flopping back and forth with Team Smoke. I was jealous of their lightweight rigs as we hiked. Here is what awaited us at the top:

We quickly made our way to Ivestor and saw Mike Brown manning the checkpoint. I had seen the Beer Fairy again at Black Basalm so I was now in Heaven. Joe again shotgunned one beer and I hit the other two following it up with my Highlands Whit I hijacked at Black Basalm while staring at the map.

All of the sudden, out of nowhere Nancy came running out of Shining Rock wilderness and pushed Joe off of the world. CRRRAAAPPP, now I had to deal with Nancy’s bitching again. Nancy wanted to go from Ivestor down BRP to 276 and ride the pavement all the way back to camp. WHAT we climbed all that way to ride the pavement back? I couldn’t let her talk to me like that so I worked up a compromise that would nab us two checkpoints on the way back with minimal climbing.

We hiked down Seinerd Ridge (luckily I had hiked up it earlier in the year or there would be virtually no way of finding the trail head as there is no sign) and hit 225. I had forgotten how much climbing there is on 225 to get to Daniel but it was totally worth it as it spit us out right at the top of the singletrack and we finally got to ride some trail.

After nabbing our second checkpoint, Nancy’s fury almost overwhelmed me. I didn’t have to physically harm her but I did have to say “Shut the fuck up and ride your bike” at one point. Luckily I was so far ahead of her going up Coontree I didn’t have to listen to the moaning. Our third checkpoint in the bag we were the third team to come in for the day. We finished with a respectable 11 checkpoints and we can now call ourselves Double Dare finishers.

Next up, THE MOST HORRIBLE THING EVER!

TMHTE Training Day # 1 & 2 A.K.A Double Dare

Thoughts of the 2008 Double Dare are pinging around in my head and making smile even though the pain is still very real.

I have a lot of love for Pisgah Production events. There is no doubt in my mind that these are and will be some of the best Mountain Biking events in the world or at least my version of the world.

I would like to explicitly thank Jack, Carlos (hoped I spelled that right), Eric, Erinna, Mike Brown, Janet (I hope I got her name right too it was a long weekend), BradO (too bad you couldn’t be there brother) and any other volunteer I have missed, YOU GUYS and GALS KICK ASS!!

I have tried many formats of writing race reports but I always fall back to chronological. It just makes the most sense as I am not an accomplished enough writer to handle flash forwards or backs. I label each section in case my gibberish gets the best of you.

Ever since being sick and moving houses the day before DD 2007, I wanted revenge on this race and Eric for yelling at me for missing the start time on Sunday 2007. I would NOT let this happen again.

Pre-race Gibberish

Rigid Single Speed or Geared bike with a fork was the question of this race for me. Ultimately I had to go with the Geared bike as I had trained on it and I wasn’t sure if my newly healed wrist would withstand the rigors of rigid.

Nuts seemed to be a theme for this race and fall. I have a Aluminum carport at my Cabin in Travelers Rest and some relentless Oak trees that throw down nuts so hard it sounds like M80’s firing off. I thought this would keep Joe awake all night as he decided to take shelter in our house Friday night but he said he had slept great which was good as I woke every hour or so to the nutcrackers.

I am getting much better at pre-preparing for races and I was comfortable at the start. We were told a time trial to the Gauging Station was in order and immediately new our route. I figured there was a faster way but I HATE riding my bike around trails in Pisgah.

Race Day # 1:

12:09 PM was our start time out of the gate leaving from White Pines North by the Horse Stables.

Our ultimate route for the day would be:

477 -> ClawHammer -> Buckhorn -> S. Mills River (North) -> Pink Beds (checkpoint 1) -> 276 -> BRP -> **HIKE MT. Pisgah Trail (out and back, checkpoint 2) -> BRP -> Pisgah lodge connector trail -> Pilot Rock -> Laurel Mountain Connector (checkpoint 3) -> Laurel Mountain -> 1206 -> Yellow Gap (Checkpoint 4) -> 5015 -> Bradley Creek (Mandatory Checkpoint 5 + ½ checkpoint) -> Laurel Creek -> Squirrel Gap (North) -> Cantrell (Checkpoint 6) -> S. Mills River (Checkpoint 7) -> Buckhorn -> Clawhammer -> 477 -> Finish time 12:08 (< 1 minute to spare) final checkpoint count 7 ½

I have a hard time getting into a “time trial” four minutes into a 24 hour race. So we took our sweet time ascending Clawhammer. I was really taking all the views in and just generally stoked to be riding our bikes in such an awesome place and time.

Riding down Buckhorn and the northern section of S. Mills River was a real treat. It is one of the few places in Pisgah where you ride next to the river instead of through it. I had told Joe there was no way I was bypassing that section of trail for pavement. He was happy to agree.

At the Gauging station we received our passport of where all 10 checkpoints would be for the day. Even though I know my way around Pisgah, I am always overwhelmed by the decisions that need to be made so quickly and I am always terrified I am going to break some rule and DNF my team.

With this in mind I saw a couple groups (who I trust) head off toward Pink Beds and I realized it would be silly to skip that checkpoint since it was only a few miles away. We ran with it and took off down the trail. That Section of Pink Beds is super fun and it is always nice to hit some single track that isn’t straight up or down.

We bagged our first checkpoint and then I stared at the map. I really thought about going back toward 477 but when I saw Dicky and Morgan head that way I knew I didn’t want them slowing us down on the way back so we took Pink Beds the rest of the way to 276.

My original plan was to hit 1206 and hike straight up Pilot to bag the first checkpoint but then I was swayed when Cook and Cissy took off up 276 all the way to the Blue Ridge Parkway. We followed them and I hit my low point of the day trying to keep pace up 276. I hadn’t prepared mentally for the million and one cars combined with the steep grade. It took its toll on my and I had to stop and stretch my back multiple times. It would have been many more had it not been for my Epic Designs bag that everyone ooohed and ahhhed over all weekend. Yeah that bag kicks ass just like the race.

When we reached the intersection of 276 and the parkway I couldn’t believe how cold it was. It was bright, sunny windy and cold.

I lost it mentally for awhile once we got to the Pisgah Inn, I thought we would hike in, nab the Laurel Checkpoint and go head toward Trace Ridge. Well once we started hiking I got it in my head that I was breaking a rule. So I had Joe and I turn around and we hunt and pecked to find the Mt. Pisgah trailhead for a minute. I was completely frustrated with myself because I knew I was fine with the original plan but my mind was doing flip flops.

We found the Mt. Pisgah trailhead and made the short hike up and back. We saw a bunch of other teams including solo Ohio Rob so I chatted him up and he eased my mind about how we were allowed to hike from the BRP to access trails just not internal trails. Crap, he was right and it straightened my head out, thanks Rob! I was so glad we chose to hike when we got to the firetower. The clouds had moved in but there were still rays of sunshine poking through in the valleys. It was stunning, to say the least.

We decided it was too cold to stay on the parkway so we made our way back to the Pilot Laurel connector to nab the third checkpoint of the day. I was excited that we would get to descend Laurel Mountain. What a treat!! The trail was in superb shape and I was feeling strong cleaning most everything while flying through the halls of yellow that nature provided. I would stop every now and then to wait for Joe and pump my front tube back up as I had a slow leak but didn’t want to chance changing it as long as I could pump it and leave it for an hour or so.

We finally started meeting up with teams that were headed in the opposite direction and I was so glad they were headed to the windy parkway instead of us. When we met up with Jut and Bruce we had to sit and have a pow wow and discuss life. We decided life was good and parted ways with larger than life smiles hooting about how we would see each other soon.

Stopping only for a moment at yellow gap (Checkpoint 4) we strapped on our lights for the screaming descent down 5015 to our mandatory checkpoint and special test. Jack asked me if I wanted to shoot a BB gun or shotgun beer. I said “Is that really a question?” and he said he had to ask. Joe shot-gunned one of the mandatory beers while I shot two and then drank another while staring at the map. Jack said that there was no penalty for drinking extra beer, sheeeeeeeew. Now we had 5 ½ checkpoints (1/2 for shot-gunning beer).

I had three more checkpoints on the brain but wasn’t sure how to nab them. So we headed for the Squirrel Gap checkpoint first. Riding Squirrel in the dark with a good beer buzz was awesome and I was feeling really strong.

We nabbed the topside of Cantrell and descended Cantrell to get the bottom checkpoint. Once there I told Joe about the horrors of S. Mills River to Buckhorn and offered an alternate route but it included climbing so Joe insisted on S. Mills River. If you have ever ridden this beast you know, if you haven’t you don’t and until you do you won’t. I just kept whispering to myself to not let it get to me. The harder you pedal the faster you bounce over all of those rocks.

I was at the intersection of S. Mills and Squirrel waiting for Joe so I pumped my front tire again and was staring at the map plotting our 8th checkpoint when Joe rolled up and said “It’s 11:00 we have to hurry.” We had exactly one hour nine minutes to make it from there to White Pines. No 8th checkpoint for us and we would be lucky not to “DNF.”

I hammered way too hard up the end of S. Mills River and waited for Joe just before the turn to Buckhorn. I let him go in front of me so I could encourage him to move along as he looked a little pale. I started giving all the motivational speeches I could after 11 hours on the bike. I said “think about the beer, we don’t want to DNF, we MUST finish, just pedal a little harder” when all of the sudden halfway up Buckhorn I hit the WALL HARD. I lost my beer buzz and it felt as though I were dying. I got off my bike and stood there wondering if I would pass out when I realized I was REALLY HUNGRY. I pulled out my cliff bloks and shoved four of them in my mouth, got on the bike pedaled and chewed simultaneously. Then my stomach GROWLED, so I got off the bike, grabbed the last six bloks I had and shoved them in my cheeks, got back on the bike and repeated the chewing pedaling process. I found some strength left in my legs and rolled up to Clawhammer with Joe telling me we had 15 minutes left. SHIIIIIITTTTTTTT.

KILLING IT in the big ring down Clawhammer drifting the gravel corners praying to mother nature that the wind hadn’t changed circumstances since the morning I had fleeting thoughts about what would happen if we didn’t make the checkpoint, WE WOULD SLEEP IN!!

Down at the bottom we kept it in the big ring, stood up and pedaled with all of our might down 477. We heard cheers when we reached the campground but couldn’t find a way through all of the cars. I was about to climb over a hood when I saw a small opening. I couldn’t feel my hands or feet so I threw down my bike and immediately lay close enough to the fire to catch myself on fire. It was a proud moment as we had arrived at 12:08.

Beth immediately offered some chili and beer, I obliged. Then Jody offered a beer, I obliged. I warmed and then ran to my tent to change into dry clothes. I saw my sleeping bag and loathed for her love. Out like a light.





Day 2, pictures and report will come tomorrow.