maybe I'll dust off..

It might be time to pull out the Louise the fixie pixie. Starting to feel better!

Where oh where

I've been off exploring the very nearby world in which I live. In case it wasn't public knowledge, I've had two bulging discs between C5, 6, and 7. So I've been laying low. Enjoying finding new things. Like this clock..
And appearing in major magazines as a hairy me.

I'm having a great time.

I sure do like this...

Raffle Winners!!!

Last night I ventured to the far north to speak at the Team Bulldog H2h Race series Banquet.

Other than a stop by mr. officer on the way home for a headlight out, everything went great. It was a huge crowd who came to eat and get their awards.

We also did the Raffle drawing and below are the winners of the 2009 IFRacing team fundraiser.

Thanks to everyone who threw down for me and the team. It's such an important part of us surviving through our season.

And here you are...

Frame and Fork!: Susan Amick
Stan's Wheelset: Lamphier
Time Pedals: Brandon Laurman
WTB Tires: Ken Gilbert
WTB Saddle: David Lowe
Tifosi Glasses: Larry Camp
Ergon Grips: Ron Sacks


Yeah!!!

So Much in so little

This weekend I've been invited to bore people to death at the annual Team Bulldog banquet. I'll be showing slides and giving about my highly opinionated thoughts on all things cycling. The metaphors will be flowing.

On top of all that gratuitous metaphor composing, I'll be finally doing the drawing for the Frame and Fork. Yeah!

Other news:

My neck is bulging. Specifically between the C 5/6 and 6/7. It's not terrible, but I do have to rest it a bit.

We'll talk soon.

The Raffle has been ---Delayed

Team IF has come upon an unfortunate situation. It turns out the IFRacing Road team has had it's sponsors leaving them holding an empty bag. After a full year of racing and killing it, their sponsors have reneged on their financial commitment to the team. This has left the team in need of raising some money to pay a couple of bills.
So to help the road brethren, we are pushing the drawing back to November 15th.

To help the situation please go to BIKEReg and buy a couple tickets!

Thanks for your patience!

Getting it back..

I've been pretty low lately. Hard to feel motivated when the bike creates nausea. The effect of a few fall rides is starting to work at the recharge.

Dominating the world from the back of the room...

Big race showdown. How to be serious and stay relaxed at the same time.

Arguably the Marathon World Championships should be considered the ultimate race of my racing career. Strangely enough, in the face of an impending ass kicking it's relatively easy to stay relaxed and enjoy one's self. It's got to be a much different burden to think you have a chance to win and to have to deal with the idea of loosing by one place. I, on the other hand, was able to lap up the atmosphere like a year old puppy licking face.

Really that's the way all high pressure moments should be. If you go in knowing you've done everything you can to prepare, you can't be unhappy with yourself. But you might be humbled.
Race headquarters for 2/3rds of team USA, Sweden, Norway and Croatia was the international student housing dorms for the local university. Since it was summer, there was plenty of free space. The flats were a great homebase with full kitchens, showers, male and female toilets and personal bedrooms. Plus we had TV and free Internet and a balcony, which made relaxing that much easier. It was a great place to be situated with the race start only 20min away on a designated bicycle route.

Graz has some pretty incredible architecture and our place was near everything, including a regular morning market, grocery stores, museums, coffee shops and a subtle red light district.
Heather Holmes and I explored the city a bit, found some strange pedal powered art, had cofffee and went to the castle at the top of the hill to do a bike photo shoot.
I love Karate too.

Heather and her ride.
Graz Graffiti.
I'm setting my bike up like this next time.
My friend Rick had to get away from his home in the Hamptons, so he arrived on Friday before the race to be friend and support. The last email I sent him had some really clever directions and pictures of where he should meet me and the times I'd be there. He apparently never saw those, but never the less fate stepped in and as I was sitting at the appointed cafe I see him and Heather across the square calling my name then giving up and they turned to walk back to the apartment. Apparently Heather saw a dude with a cast and having never met Rick, asked him if he spoke English. It's a good thing she made that cautious leap cause, we'd have been going in circles for a while. Yeah chance!
It was a good thing Rick was coming because on the first preride I did of the course, I busted a spoke due to over tightening a computer magnet on the ultra thin spokes on my rear wheel. Basically I created a stress point in an aluminum spoke and it couldn't flex like it was supposed to. That is why you try not to do anything new right before a big race. The biggest problem was I had left all my other spokes at home. Brandi at Industry Nine was a champ and he managed to next day spokes to Rick who was able to get them to me.
Race day was pretty exciting. I felt rested and ready to perform. Rick drove to the race while Heather and I rode there to get our legs warmed up. We got there before Rick because traffic was jammed packed on the entry road and we had to thread the needle a couple of times to make our way to the start finish area. The start line area is best described as a horde of people, beer, food and bikes. Still it was a bike race, so every where you look you see the familiar sights of last minute tuning up, racers spinning the legs, water bottles being filled and chamois cream being applied.
I was pretty excited to be involved in such a huge event. Seeing everyone wrapped in their countries colors, created the sense in me that we had shed some of our personal identity walls and were all a little more open to the moment and each other. There was a lot more smiling than nervous expectation grimaces. It probably was more relaxed down our way in the last rows, and I'm sure the row with numbers 1-30 were a hot bead of flared tempers and dirty scowls.

The two Hungary riders I battled all day, but eventually passed on the last climb. Me on Left.

The Race.
The opening mile of the course is a gentle 3-5% grade. Then the next mile is a senility inducing average of 15% with a max of 28% all on asphalt. This all leads into the opening single track climb on big wet roots. I started out with a plan of not destroying myself in the first half hour. Quickly I found that if that plan wasn't abandoned I'd be at the literal back of the pack. So instead I spent the first 20min of the race with a HR in the 180-185 range. That was not in the play book. Fortunately the course quickly turned to some rather technical trail, and even though it was brief it gave me a chance to make up some time, cause it's true, just cause you race at the top end doesn't mean you know how to ride a bike. I'll give any of the elite riders on the East Coast better odds on the Technical trails than almost any of the Euro's I was racing near.
It took me three days to preride the course, but I'm glad I got it all in. The 20km section that was cut from the women's race, had the second biggest climb of the day and it started with a hike-a-bike. I had lost a few places just before aid station 1 and the start of that section, but I knew what was coming, so I stayed steady, grabbed a bottle from Rick and started hoofing it up that slick hike. It took almost an hour to get to the top, but along the way we had some great technical single-track climbing, which I prided myself on being the only one to clear it in my vicinity, go USA, and in the process I took back most of the spots I had lost earlier.
At this point I was pretty happy with my tire choice. I had on WTB's out of production really big cyclocross tires, the 700/44c Mutano Raptors. They were pretty light, and really knobby and set up tubeless on my Stan's rims so they hooked up on the loose loamy climbs. I also think I was the only 29er at the race!. Maybe I'm the first 29er ever at a Worlds Marathon Course.
In the 53 minutes it took me to do the climb between aid station 1 and 2 had I averaged 174 beats with a max of 185 and there were two 180ish five minute intervals. After that hour my HR never got into the 180's again. Still I would be no stranger to the 170's, but I was done with hitting my max. That climb was more suited for me due to the consistent grade of around 7-10% on gravel, with those steep sections of trail thrown in. Plus the downhill looping back to aid station 2 was had some great off camber single track and pea-gravel roads that I ate up as fast as I could. It required elbow checking one racer, who lost his line, but tried to jump back in at an awkward moment. I apologized, and he apologized and we were all good.
Hour three of the race saw me playing cat and mouse with a couple of people, specifically two Hungarian riders. It was mostly gently rolling hills between stations 2 and 4, but the sections that brought us through towns and the patio of a restaurant with patrons drinking beer kept it entertaining.
I managed to lose contact with my Hungarian nemesis during this section, but I had faith that I'd be able to catch some people on the final climb up to Shockle. The Shockle climb took me about an hour and a half. It started with some gravel road then quickly turned to washed out, unused and rocky dualtrack. Again, I had to thank my knobby skinny 29er wheels for getting me up that mountain. I felt pretty good almost all the way up, really started to fade on the last couple of nasty pitches. Fortunately I had already passed the Hungarians, and a couple others on the climb. Then on the first flirting with the descending I actually got off my bike to run some of the rocky downhill sections because they were so gnarly. My ego was a little hurt by getting off, but I doubt anyone was able to ride all those sections. After that initial bit of rockiness, it got steeper and faster, but not necessarily much easier to ride. The gravel jeep roads were full of rock slabs, big drops and sketchy lines. This was the only section of the course where I was a little bit at a disadvantage with the skinnier tires, but I believe it was worth it for all the other places where they excelled. By the bottom my arms were getting a little tired and my wrist was definitely starting to fatigue holding on so tight to keep the wrist stable.
You'd think that after that climb it would be mostly downhill and a race to the finish from there, but the size of the Shockle climb on the profile puts the next two climbs out of proportion by towering over them and leading one into a false sense of security. After the big descent there is still the biggest hike-a-bike standing in the way to the finish line. A solid 10 minute hike with bike over shoulder. Coming into I I thought I had pretty much sorted out my position in the race, but as I got about a minute into the climb I looked below to see a group of 10 or so guys hoofing it in my direction. Crap I thought. So I found a little extra energy to high step it to the top. I think that demoralized a few of them, because for the rest of the race there were only two or three people trying to creep.
After that hike-a-bike I had thought that was it for climbing, but out of no where, there came another climb that was so steep at one point I had to get off and walk the last ten feet. I was so blown at this point, but knew I couldn't slow down otherwise I'd be loosing some extra spots. So while trying to avoid vomiting in my own mouth I hustled it home. I did loose one spot, but there wasn't much I could do. I was toast.

At the finish line I was so happy to be done and not to excited to find out how I did. Fortunately like all good mountain bike races, there was free beer right after the line, and still inside of the finish area. It was a great way to finish off the race of my life! I stood there stunned for awhile and Rick eventually found me, as well as Heather who had a great race and came in 25th. Pua was there all clean and in civilian clothes. She managed a stellar 7th place.

All was good. Except for the smiling Irish girl who came in with a 6in gash in her arm looking for the medic but seemingly drawn to the beer first.

I send out a big hearty thanks to all those who donated to this happening. Overall the trip cost a lot more than I expected and every penny counted. I didn't have to hitch hike once! I haven't done the drawing for the Trainer yet, but I will as soon as I get organized and the names in a hat.

Of course Rick and I still had to get back to Venice and his rental car made life so much easier. We did an awesome drive to the Dolemites and spent the night, before going on a seriously incredible hike the next day around Cortina. These mountains are now on my top five list of places to go, or I've been. If you ever get a chance don't pass up the opportunity to visit. It's freaking magical!
Good Italian food in the Dolemites.
We asked the people how to rent this place for the next time we come back. It's not for rent, cause it's family owned. Amazing because it's in the middle of the national park and there ain't another house around for miles.
I bought some new shoes to go hiking in, since I didn't bring any and I don't have none back home.
The Dolemites are so incredible!



That's a dwelling from the past.
This is about 3,000 meters up.

Oh, It's Over..

This is what it looks like to be painted and folded in half, then opened up again. Or that's how I felt after racing like an animal for 5:50. It was an experience. Heather Holmes (on the left) still had some spunk left. It was an incredibly humbling experience. I've seen things....At first I entertained thoughts of a top 30, then maybe a top 50, then I was hoping to be in the top 50%, another evaluation/ number tossed around was a top 70. 87th sure seems like going to the safety deposit box and finding $10 instead of $10,000. Oh well....Still a seriously priceless experience.

More to come, but right now I'm in the Aussie Camp from hell, outside of Venice. Rick and I hiked in the dolomites for 5+ hours today and we're cooked..

Today is it!

Here we go!

A Worlds Bike Got Some Nitro

Before I left Philly I took the bike by Bicycle Therapy to get some race tuning advice from Lee Rogers. He helped me with some excellent housing choices and when we were done I weighed my bike to find, to my surprise, it was at 20.5lbs!!!

The most exciting change are the R1 brakes that Formula sent me. Actually Chris and Charlie sent to me. And Formula Italy sent them to them in record time. So Italy sent the brakes to California, then Cali went them to me on Tuesday, then I flew back to Italy on Wednesday!

Well they are so nice. They dropped about half a pound off my bike it feels like. I'm really glad they returned to a wider lever design. I preferred the older style before last years, and it seems that someone in the Design department felt the same way. They feel more powerful than my older Puro Oro's, and it was proven on the nasty long downhills of the Worlds Course. I'd expect many brakes to start to fade due to the fact that you couldn't let go of the brakes it was so steep. The caliper bodies are one solid piece of forged metal, unlike most brakes that are two pieces of machined aluminum that are welded together. The new rotors help dissipate the heat, so that helps dissipate any fading potential.

Hagen with Time hooked me up with some lighter pedals!!!I've decided to go with the WTB Mutano raptors. Sure they are out of production, but they are light, knobby and fast on a course with 12,000ft of climbing and tons of high speed gravel.
Love my Brass cable ferrals
Don't forget the Chris King BB, which I pumped out the old standard grease and pumped in some fresh thinner oil to take out any extra friction.

Of Course It Isn't That Bad

Andreas met me at the train station. It was very kind of him and a huge relief to see him after I called Monday at 6ish in the PM to tell him when I'd be coming in. He seemed less than happy to hear it would be about 10:30pm since he had already been to the station 3 times that day, having not heard from me for two days and thought I might be in at any moment. Since my camera battery was dead, we re-staged the meeting the next day when we went to pick up Heather from the Airport. I felt special getting off the train and having someone waiting for me with a big sign. Size matters when it's duck taped to the end of a stick and held high, not against your chest like some mug shot picture.

In a country with a language you can't understand, the possibilities for free association are limitless. There is quite a bit of miss communication. No guide book ever factors into the budget the money spent due to language barriers. This very morning, I ended up eating two pastries because I didn't know how to tell the lady I had changed my mind and wanted to a different one, so I ended up with two. At the top of the biggest climb, Heather stopped to get some water, and when she pointed at a glass to indicate that she wanted the water in a glass she ended up with two glasses of half wine and half water. The Austrian version of Nantucket Nectar's "Half and Half"

So when traveling outside of your language comfort zone be aware of going with your intuitive understanding fueled by body language...I don't know what this sign means or why the dog seems so happy, but as they say, 'when in Austria....lick a deer's genitals'This is either a sign for car delivery or they remove cars by helicopter, crane or fishing rod.
Originally, I expressed some doubt about the course's validity as a mountain bike course. When reading the profile and description you see only about 4 miles of trail and about 88% is gravel or asphalt. Sounds like a white bread, milquetoast slice of Euro trail. I'm not saying the Euro's have taken the soul of MTBing and turned it into blandly packaged rice cakes, but it definitely looked to be going that way. Problem is I have some narrow standards for what what mountain biking is. And if you don't got much to work with there are some methods for keeping it interesting. Namely...
1: Trail is nice. The more of it the better. If you can't have a lot, then it should at least change up frequently. Take that 4 miles of trail and break it up amongst the 60 miles. That makes things go by faster and keeps the brain fresh which satisfies my ADD side.
2: Keep the terrain interesting. Soon after we go through this pathway behind houses and a tennis court, we ride through a school. Then we head out of town, past a monastery/ museum.
3: Use the local wildlife as a distraction. Here is Heather Holmes turning her derriere to the cows.
4: Throw in some people that are doing things more fun and more dangerous than you along the course and it puts the current race situation into perspective.


5: Always more cowbell!!

6: Throw in some snipers.
7: Obstacles that make the racers dismount are sure to up the chances for cramping by 18%
8: Make sure the racers are properly disposing of their needles.

I guess that last one doesn't mean much to keeping the race interesting. Point is, the course is a lot more interesting than I originally thought it might be. Still there isn't a lot of trail, but it is steep, varies regularly and has enough climbing to choke a monkey. It's going to be hard. Especially since it starts with a pavement climb that averages about 15% for a mile. That's enough to have your eye's burning with blood vessels ready to burst.

Europa eh'

Alps from my bird.

Of course I couldn't make it easy. Originally I booked a hotel in Venice, but on the way I heard that getting around the streets with a bike box and my other stuff would border on boot camp training. So I tried to go to the campsite I originally looked at.
I took the bus the wrong direction, got off at the 2nd stop as I was told and spent 4hours hauling my bike box around trying to figure out what was going on.

A clarification about the Camp Site. You could bring a tent, or use a tent that is already there, or rent a prefab dorm-room by the bed, My prefab home away from home.

or bring in your RV, or get a rustica cabin. Plus they had a pool, an overpriced restaurant and internet (mostly). Really a pretty nice set up. Unfortunately the riding was not worth hanging out for, so after a visit to Venice to stare at dirty water and tourists wandering amongst the quaint, and yes beautiful, streets I hightailed it out of there.

Don't try to catch public transportation during a Catholic Holiday in Italy. Pentecost caused me a lot of headaches. Trains were full, so I decided to wing it by bus. That put me into the second most beautiful place I've to been this year. The Italian Dolomites.

That's a Whole Foods shirt, where he found his cheese passion....

Made a night of it there in Cortina, rode the WWII loop, then caught a bus out, finally on my last leg to Graz. On the Dolomite loop I rode to the top of a pass, where the ski lift stops and a restaurant was waiting for me with an espresso and the rap song, 'I don't want no short dick man' was gently playing in Muzac style while people sipped their espressos and a waitress cleaned berries.

"Awesome" is how I describe moments like that.

I rode the big climb of the Worlds course today, and I'll post some pics later..

I have to say thank you to all the people who have donated to this trip. I swear I'm not blowing it on "my european vacation." This trip is the opportunity of a lifetime and you can bet I'm going to make the most of it. Thank you for sending me here!

Here I Go: World Championship Attack! Win something!

The day I finished the Breck Epic I got an email from USA Cycling;

"Hello,

As you may know, your top ranking in the USAC Ultra Endurance Rankings has given you an automatic selection to the Marathon World Championship Team. The Marathon Worlds are in Graz, Austria on August 23^rd.

USA Cycling will not be providing any logistical or financial support at this event so if you decide to accept your spot on the team you will be responsible for all your travel, lodging and support at this race.

Please let me know if you would like to accept or decline your spot on the team or if you have any further questions."

I read the email and sort of gave a dismissive 'whatever'. It seemed like such a casual and almost reluctant message that I didn't really understand what it was saying. I guess I'd expect an invitation to the World Championships to have a positive tone to it. Maybe it would start off with "Congratulations" or maybe at least my name. Plus the encouraging message that I'd be responsible for all the financial logistics after finishing an expensive race in CO pushed the reality of the message further from my cerebral cortex.
So you'll have to forgive me if it was a couple of days before I returned to the message and realized that I was invited to wear 'Red White and Blue" and represent team USA at the Marathon World Championships! That should all be in caps!

I was invited to wear 'Red White and Blue" and represent team USA at the Marathon World Championships!

There! That is almost how I felt. The emotions surprised me since I tend to keep my patriotism in a well contained box of sarcasm most of the time. But this is different.

I'm going! With support from my parents, friends, supporters and credit cards I'll be on team USA.

It's a rare opportunity and since you never know what the next year might bring, it's important to seize the moment.

So the Patriotic pride has filled me and I think I'm going to let a tear of happiness slide down my cheek as I stand in the last row of a huge field of the worlds best cyclist wearing the only USA jersey in the field. It would have been two jerseys but unfortunately Jeremiah Bishop had a bad enough crash in Canada to fracture a vertebra. This news from last week really made my heart sink since I knew he was probably the most deserving to be there through his years of effort.

I also feel a little reluctance in going, since I can say that I feel a little unprepared for the race and don't really know if I can be at the ideal top of my game in time. But this is what I know; I can go and be the best I can be that day, and as long as I do that I'll walk away happy and sure that I represented the USA as well as I can. Besides the USA I feel the weight of all the people in the region that I race with regularly and those people in the scene that have supported me and others because they feel so passionate about the importance of cycling in this world. Thanks to all those people a hundred times over!

If anyone reading this would like to help with this "financially unsupported" endeavor please feel free to click the "World Championship Domination Button" above. Since I hate asking for help without giving back, if you donate you will be entered into a raffle for a chance to win a CycleOps Fluid 2 trainer! It's been donated by my local CycleOps rep. Or you can buy raffle tickets as a way to support the effort of myself and the entire IF MTB team. I salute you all!!

And that course profile above is the World Champ course.
65miles
12,300ft of climbing
4% trail
96% asphalt, gravel, cinder path, grass!!

Oh and the Epic

I love driving. It astonishes me the nonchalant attitude of city kids with abundant public transportation. 16 and driving was not just a right of passage but a necessity in the rural world I lived in. Everything was 20 miles away, but it still only took 20 minutes to get there, whereas it takes 20+ minutes to get 5 miles in this city of brotherly love.

Digressing is a forte' and where I mean to be going with this is the fact that driving out to Colorado might seem like a chore to some, but it's just a natural habitat for me.

This is a big country and like the space between your ears, there is a lot going on between the coasts. I guess if you are a mountain biker you've chosen a pretty exciting time to race your bike. I think the general consensus is that the state of mountain biking in the US is on the low arch. We're waning, not waxing, I think. Or maybe we're at that phase where if you weren't paying attention you don't know if it's disappearing or about to get real full.

I think it's been a historical re occurrence that during the times when a culture, revolution or party starts to hit a lull, and people are standing around wondering what to do next, either the party dies or someone comes up with another plan that outdoes the previous party.
The post 90's MTB hangover has left the mountain world scrambling for a new spark to light the fuse of cycling joy and in the course of the search people are experimenting with race formats. Therefore we have new epic stage races...

Like the Breck Epic or the soon to be coming Pisgah Mountain Bike Challenge. I've got the Pisgah race firmly on my schedule but, I'm not sure why I went to CO for the Breck Epic. Sometimes you do things just cause. Usually they don't cost you a grand to do, but no regrets here since the the trip was a beautiful time.

The Epic was 6 days of racing at 9,600ft+ with almost every day crossing the 12,000ft mark. The first day was an uphill prologue that was supposed to be 9 miles long and basically one harder grunt after another. At registration we were given a start time and a goody bag that included dog tags with our name and the phone number of whoever we deemed would be responsible for our broken bodies if circumstances came to that. Usually I don't get all excited about the swag put in our bags, probably because it's usually just a t-shirt and some caloric injecting substance. These bags were an exception. First off the bags themselves were the reusable grocery bag types. (I use my whole foods bags for about everything except grocery getting). Inside was a cool breckepic jersey that fits and is stylish. Then there was the monogrammed Breck Epic Crank Brothers mini pump. And finally there was some lube. All very useful things. Proof that the promoter has something between his ears. More proof? The bag had an identical bag inside and both had our numbers on them because they would be our drops each day. Mike Mack is a smart man.

It's a fact that I only saw the bags and their contents because I was to proud to to tuck my tail between my legs and drive back to PA, even though that's all I wanted to do when I woke up in the morning. I had been up all night coughing, being too hot, then too cold, then having to use the bath room about 6 times. Basically when I woke up in the morning I felt like a stolen handbag left in the ditch after being emptied by rough criminal hands. The idea of turning my guts inside out to go uphill for an hour didn't seem too appealing. But as I walked up to the registration area to talk to Promoter Mike, I chickened out of backing out and asking for a refund or 2010 comp.

Whatever, it was only 6 days of racing and I'd either get better or worse. I forgot that you can languish between the two indeterminately. I had a 4:19 start time since the open mens class went last in alphabetical order. Fortunately the rain that had started about two stopped at about 3:30. Still the skies were grey and the moisture was thick, not as thick as the snot rockets I was blowing.
My plan was simply to get to the top without dieing. I managed that with my 30 second man Aaron Potts dragging me along up the trail. A lot of time when you go west the hills are long but built with a friendly gradient, to get you to the top in a leisurely manner. Breckenridge is not that way. It can lull you into the feeling that you'll be cruising contour trails, but before you know it the 'breck slap' hits and your wondering why the granny gear feels like it's cowering in the corner. Just about the time that I had started to feel like a living creature I came through a friendlier section and there was the finish. Three miles early.

I hate that. Thinking one thing then finding out the other. I don't think any one knew it was a shortened course. Well at least day one was over and I could go home and try to recover. Then come back later for the 6pm racer meeting. I had a cold can of coconut juice in the fridge that I couldn't wait to slide down my blistered throat. After some typical racer meeting stuff, I went back to Erika and Marks to have them pour more healing meds down my throat and send me to bed. Oh and I was a disappointing 13th on the day. It's stupid but I was still hoping for more.

Day 2 was the eye opener. Because it was so beautiful, and we realized that it was going to be a serious race. Our course took us through sections of the Colorado trail, that I have been a fan of since riding the Breck 100 in 2006. Super climbs to sweeping vistas and then long downhills through the woods. It was still a day of survival, but I was feeling better and managed an 8th place, while racing with James Williams and Yuki Saito for a bit. It's great racing in new places and finding new competition, because it keeps you humble.

Day 3 was a little better, same scenario of tussling with James and Yuki, even though I really felt like crap on the 2nd climb of the day and I thought I would be throwing in the towel if I ever made it back. My competative troll kept me in the game when I was passed by a certain individual who unknowingly creates a burning desire for me to not finish behind. My fires a little turned up, I managed to take 7th on the day and was beginning to see a light where before there was only darkness. I'll say that downhills saved me a lot in the race for rolling back up on people. It gave me time to get my legs each day if I could feel confident that I could catch riders later after they left me on the first climb.

Day four was the best day of the race for me. I felt like the cold was being managed and wasn't getting worse. I still was hacking up lots of strange stuff and having a hard time sleeping, but there were no more feverish nights. I managed to stay in control of my breathing and for the first time felt like opening up the legs a little. At the finish I had 5th place and a new found optimism. We went over the 12,500 French Pass, which reguired a little hike-a-bike and a snow drift ride. I was feeling like a king.

Day five stole it all back as I fell to my knees and cursed the air with it's thin oxygen. Above me was a criss-crossing switch back with the tiniest of people at the top carrying their bikes. Hiking for 45 minutes had out of body and I couldn't hold onto my bike at one point. It reminded me of the 3am experience I had in the one and only 24hr race I'll ever do. There was no where to go but up, so I stared at my feet and willed each step as if I had ESP and was using it to move inanimate objects. Eventually it hurt so bad to walk that I had no choice but to ride the 6in piece of trail. Later people came up to me and said they were amazed that I was riding it. I guess it's like the person who lifts a car to save someone. I had no choice but to ride because walking was failing me. Seriously it was a serious moment for me. I ended up somewhere back around 13th again and my hope for a top 5 overall were slipping away.

The last day was me hoping for a Landis day, where I would somehow make up 20 minutes on everyone and redeem myself. It was noce to wish for but on the first climb I felt like the previous day had never ended. Hoping I would warm up I took it easy to the top and when we turned right onto the trail head I could feel the single track i-v trickle life back into me. Alright, this is what I wanted. I managed to get around four or five people in the luge like trail. As we exited the road and turned our sights up hill for the climb back up, James and I worked like a team to start pulling more people back in. Eventually I dropped James and had Mark Legg-Compton dangling in front. Eventually I caught him and we worked together in the headwinds to get over Boreas Pass. I managed to duck into the super fun single track finishing trails and caught three more people in the Jedi Knight trails. I finished 8th for the day but some solid finishes from others put me back in 9th overall for the Epic.

In the end I had a bad race but a good time traveling there and back, staying with my wonderful friends Mark and Erika and racing through some crummy situations. For a week I was a little burned after the race but I started to bounce back pretty good despite putting a stitch worthy hole in my knee on Wendesday at Wakefied (Go PotomacVelo). Thanks Mr. Childers for patching me up! That's a whole other story.
Now I'm suffering a Fractured Capitate bone in my wrist, and trying to get ready for the World Freaking Championships!
Didn't I tell ya?

Breck Epic: It's the journey that matters! Right?!

Sea Level to 9,600+feet. At the closing ceremony of the Breck Epic, Mike McCormick asked who came from the lowest elevation to race in the high Colorado Alpine. I thought I might have been close since I had been at the beach the day before I drove west. Then of course there was the below sea level, Death Valley ringer who stole my excuse glory. Then... there was the 62yr old, Wendy, and the other lady who rode the whole race with a cast on her hand. Both of them neutered my "I'm sick" excuse for bailing on the race like I wanted to do after having a fever the night before the start. It's okay that I was about to be pasted by singlespeeders and ladies with one arm. It had been a good trip up to this point and there is nothing like a little alone time to put things into perspective. I decided to drive out instead of flying because I wanted to bring the dog and I wasn't sure how long I wanted to stay out. So for the sake of flexibility and dog company I took the racks off the car, stuffed it all inside and managed 5 extra miles per gallon in the aero tuck.
Proof that roof racks are turning all the bike riders out there into gas guzzlers.
I decided to take 70 all the way out. Along the way I stopped at Buck's Pump track, got pulled by the state T for following too close, rode Columbus trails where I was inspired by a couple kids who jump out of their mini van and were on their bikes in less than a minute (in tennis shoes, and gym shorts), saw an Arch, called 911 on a one armed drunk driver, rode Kansas's Lake Wilson Trails +++, ate at the Hanover Pancake house in Topeka, met Garrett Steinmetz in Missouri (email me Garrett) and watched mile after mile of the American Landscape roll by.


If you've never been to the Jefferson Memorial in St. Louis, I recommend a visit. It's like the Washington monument, except it's made of metal and fell over. I love graffitti and the Arch has it's own special sort. Here is my photo expose`.





The Roller Coaster Trails of Wilson Lake are 15 miles of exposed-to-the-sun fun.

So in a about three days I made it to Longmont Colorado to stay with IF team mate John C.
We rode Halls Ranch, pretty fun but crowded, and ate some serious burritos.
It was time to head to the Tiezen race head-quarters, just north of Breckenridge. My original plans were to do the trifecta; the Firecracker, the Breck Epic and the Breck 100. Being a rational being a-la John Locke, I decided to skip the Firecracker and just watch it. As I stood there cheering on the peeps trying to finish their first oxygen deficient lap I saw a strange sight. A lady that looked like Katie Compton riding an INdependent Fabrication!

So I stalked her down the mountain and when I found her I also found it to be true. Some how she was now a member of the IF crew! If you don't know who Katie is, you might recognize her as the only American to win a World CUp cyclocross race. A national Champion and an all around bad ass.

So it turns out that IF is her new frame sponsor after a loss of her old sponsors. She's still looking for someone with money so if you can help let her know.

Mas Video: Rapha Gentlemans Race

A few weeks ago I had planned on having a weekend off from racing. It was going to be all ice cream, hammocks and sparkling water.

Rapha Gentlemen's Race - New Paltz, NY from RAPHA on Vimeo.

Then the emergency 'Brown' phone lit up and on the other end was a gaggle of riders blubbering on about how 'therewassixbutonedroppedoutandnowtheyneedanother'. Turns out it was an unofficial, uninsured and unlikely gentleman's race put on by Rapha outside of New Paltz NY. Bicycling Magazine had a crew of mostly mountain bikers put together and it was captain Cushionbury who had called me (could have been a text, email or twitter).

I had to make the tough decision of sitting at home sipping lemon spritzers or travel for a 125 mile group ride through a place called the 'Gunks'. I can't resist anything called 'Gunk' and so I packed the green machine and headed to Emmaus to meet the crew. I rolled into my favorite Bikeshop/ coffee bar South Mountain Cycles, had a shot, shot the shit and waited for the band of pirates.

Soon teammate number 1 Selene, the Fitness Chick, rode by and informed me that rider Joule (sp) had just called and was out due to a crash on the bike that day. Damn. Now we had to scramble to find a 6th person, so we lit up the hovering network of cell signals in the sky and had a last minute commitment form Aaron Synder himself, despite the fact that he was leaaving for Europe in 2 days and his girlfriend was left not happy.
Now all we had to do was kill a little time while we waited for Mr. Snyder to show. What better to do than ask to take Cush's souped up Subaru WRX for a quick spin. In the space of 30 seconds I was almost hit twice before I even pulled out of the parking spot in front of the 10 people waiting to go, all laughing at me and placing bets on the car's and my survival.

As I pulled away, Aaron pulled in, and when I got back in one piece, we scattered.

There is an ironic element to the fact that I was about to do a team time trial over 125miles. I had just written a point-counterpoint argument about the merits of Solo Mountain Bike Stage Racing for Mountain Bike Magazine, which Cushionbury had assigned to me. Now I was in a position to see what it meant to race as a team, where no one was allowed to be dropped, and all bonking would be shared.

After a day that saw one rider who had come despite a terrifing crash on the Track earlier in the week, began falling apart at about mile 40, another rider fighting through severe cramps at mile 105, a missed turn and one flat, I realized the spiritual value of riding 'with' people. It required an empathy I'm not used to calling forth and the type of team bonding experience I usually leave for the movies I don't go to see. Except maybe 'Shaun of the Dead'.

Anyways it was a great time. Beautiful place and great team mates. Thanks, Mike, Selene, Mike, Brad and Aaron.

My New Formula Rotors

Thought I'd throw these out there. Got some new Formula R-1 rotors. All steel, extra cut and they feel a ton lighter than traditional rotors even though I think they are only like 20-30 grams lighter each.

The mounted ones are the new ones.

Cows, Bells and stewed. Welcome to the South

Somethings just get away from you if you aren't paying attention. Shirts mostly. Racing also. I just tallied up my season so far and the season to go, only to find out I've done 19 races as of this weekend. Those 19 races add up to 28 days of actual competing on the bike. It makes me wonder what the hell am I thinking? I think I only did about 26 races last year total. At this rate I'll be almost double by the end of the year.

Crap. Well I guess that that means this coming weekend at the beach is a well deserved break.
It'll be nice to sit back and not think about the night time trials, hill climbs, 100 mile races, xc races, chamois cream, drink mix, packing air, socks, clean kits, the other guys, air pressure entry fees and most of all leaving home. Well, I guess I'm leaving anyways.

Last weekend Jordan and I packed up the 5th Element and turned it south towards the hot hot hot south. Saturday was the USA Cycling Endurance Calender marathon race, the Cowbell Challenge. 50 miles of sweet roots and kick in the johnson climbs. Five climbs that are pretty short but back to back and steep enough to make you feel like you are doing 5 two minutes sprints at the end of each lap.

All in 95+ degree heat and 100% humidity.

The start saw Jafer off the front gunning it for the KOM points while I tried to stay relaxed and entered the single track 3rd or 4th. Taylor Sullivan put in some new technical rock boulder sections that were really fun, if you like squeezing your rear derailleur through some pinch points. Which I do.

So we got down to business, racing. With the heat I fugured I'd try to keep it dialed back to keep from vomiting and make it to the end. And I wasn't sure i'd make it to the finish at all. It could have been the fact i only rode my bike 3hrs the week before, or the heat, or the fact the Jafer and Aaron Oaks were putting the pressure on but I had serious doubts about my day finishing good. I decided that if I could make it to the half way point life might start looking better, and when we got to three laps to go, there was just me and Aaron who promptly attacked and put himself in the hole. So I figured the last two laps I might stay away if all works out.

Going into the last lap I pass Tim who says to me "otheryoulookingrealstrong." I couldn't really understand and thought he either said "You are looking stronger than the rest." or "There is a dude looking real real strong." Well I worried about that and kept looking back to see if I could eliminate one of the options from above. I thought I saw a streak in the single track but it's hard to tell since it's so twisty, but when I got to the bottom of the 2nd climb I looked back and there was Jafer coming after me as if I stole his dog. So instead of relaxing into the last three climbs I had to sprint as if I'd stole someones cellphone while they were talking on it.

Dizzy and done I finished almost a minute and a half up on Jafer, and I had no plan on racing the next day. Of course the pain and memory went away and no sooner did I eat a Ben and Jerry's cone, than I was ready to hit the start line.
The next day was a little cool temperature, but the competition has going to test my legs to the end. We started fast even though it was only 3 laps I was talking myself through the whole race. I made it through 2 laps in the top 5 group and felt pretty good as we headed out for the third and final round, but like a traffic accident, I was blindsided by an uncontrollable urge to stop pedaling, and my vision went a little funny.

Well I decided that I had put myself through enough, rode off the course towards the finish to turn in my chip and stopped at the car to drink something first. Then I sat there for a few minutes, Kyle and company drapped some wet cloth on me and I started to feel a bit better. I cheered on the racers as they went by and as I looked over at the start finish line I decided that the last thing I wanted to do was to have BRuce Dickman giving me a hard time for DNFing, which I hadn't done all year.

So I got back on the bike to finish the lap, and cool down. I went without my jersey and rode in bib glory. I actually like riding at the back of the pack sometimes as I 've expressed before. You get a chance to ride with new people, and there was Sam to keep me company. Thanks Sam. Then I caught Anina, the 2nd place female. 1st place was in sight 30sec up, so I couldn't go in front of her for fear of pulling her up, so I just sat behind her and tried to be encouraging for her to not give up. She didn't yell at me to leave her alone, so I just stayed there and watched the womens race from the course, which was really fun. Good job to both of them for battling to the end!

Colorado NExt week!

Stoopid is as Stoopid 50

I was but wasn't planning on doing this race. Then my car done broke down and a $500 alternator was needed. Well I could sit around here or go and try to make a little money and get a workout in. Plus I needed to start the Raffle Ticket push in full force to help pay for the Breckenridge Race'n Blowout for the month of July.

So up I loaded Friday night into the Lockwood breadbox with a gaggle of 5, including my dog Gertie. We made it through the early storms to the super secret camp spot, set up the hammocks, watched the fire, climbed the tower and went to bed. Gertie slept in the Hammock with me.

At the start line we had 6 Indy Fab riders there, which was sort of startling. I was really excited to have a crew looking so sharp in our new kits. The start was relatively mild, with a climb that went a couple of miles on gravel before turning left on the single track. IF rider Greg made a couple meat tenderizing attacks, then Rich Straub took a turn, who's wheel I followed, and when he fell off the pace I said to hell with it and took a flyer. Unfortunately I let Jeff come around me at the singletrack and though he has improved his trail riding a bunch in the past few years, I wasn't able to really rock the granite as much as I would have liked.

Eventually I got around Jeff and before me was some of the best technical ridge riding I've had the pleasure of putting rubber to. About an hour in Jeff and Eatough were on my wheel on a nice ribbon of downhill single track. I wasn't trying to push the pace, and had just told myself to relax, not take any risks and ride clean when I leaned into a small pine sapling as if it was ski gate and caught my barends at mock speed. After doing a tuck and double roll I popped up with Eatough and Schalk staring at me wild-eyed and not convinced that I could possibly be okay.

After a quick check of myself, putting my water bottles back, rolling the chain back on we were off. I realized I hit my head pretty good, and found out later I had a broken helmet, still there was no nausea, dizzyness or darkness so I figured I was okay.

From that point on I held onto 3rd place comfortable till the 35 mile mark when Chris Beck rolled up on me. He had flatted earlier and had been chasing all day. I was running my power tap and had an idea of the climbing numbers I wanted to maintain for the workout I wanted. Surprisingly Beck didn't roll on without me, and at one point he asked me what the hurry was. I didn't say it, but there was the little matter of the last podium spot, so I relaxed for a minute then dialed back in my numbers.

There are two big climbs after the 35 mile mark and the first one was an angry ant biting a tied down man exposed to a blazing sun for about 30 minutes.
The second wasn't as long but was annoying. I had a pretty good idea that the finish line was at the end of the next piece of single track. All I wanted to do was get in the trail first, and not flat on the downhill. I had to keep Beck behind me with a few short accelerations but it paid off as we finished 3rd and 4th, at the silliest most anticlamatic finish line ever. I totaly dig it.