good dad!

This is my Dad and I.
He's a good man, but look out for his hands. I took some portraits of him and my step mother a couple of months ago. Both wonderful people. Visiting family can be a little decieving. Sometimes you don't really get a chance to see them, because of activities that keep you busy and occupied. When I got back and saw the photos I had taken, I was kind of blown away, and felt I was just getting a chance to see them for the first time in years. Old wrinkles that were always there, have started to deepen, and I see these adults as no longer being ageless. The photos made me feel closer to them than I had in years. Not that I felt distant or isolated in any way but a new awareness grew out of those photos.
If you want, I would gladly come and take photos of your parents. Let me know. Maybe I could do it in exchange for some racing expenses. Or what ever you have to barter. Or whatever. I hate money. But need it.

Also if you are ever in North Florida, my dad (Dennis) has an Environmental tour business.
dpnaturetours.com
Florida isn't all beaches. North Central Florida has these prehistoric atmospheres, where the water is slow and dark, and spanish moss dips its fingers into the river at a slow southernly pace. You'll understand why drinking and driving should be about cruising not crashing. He'll take you canoeing or hiking, and there are even 50miles of trails from his home in White Springs. Check out the suwannee bicycle association.
http://www.suwanneebike.org/

ohio trees are dangerous

dave's broke neck

pics from Mohican

random pic.

Mohican 100

My Mohican Weekend
A race report
By Harlan Price
20th grade

I was 13 the last time I went to the Buckeye State, and for the past 17 years I’ve been unable to erase from memory the hell that Ohio is. Unbearable August heat, slurp it with a straw humidity, horse flies, sister’s bare chested, mullett wearing, G’N’R cranking boyfriend driving at 90mph on back roads in a ford 250. My mother was competing in a 100mile endurance horse race, and the heavy smell of manure was filling every article of clothing I owned. I haven’t had many good things to say about Ohio since then.
After this weekend and a 100+miles of my own endurance race I can’t say my opinion has shifted that much. June heat was a little more mild, but the same sensation of riding through a steaming jungle of horse manure was still there. The 7hrs of rain on the drive there was only made bearable by my travel mates Tim and Dave. About an hour before arriving we decided a cabin would be much more appealing than setting up in the rain and eating cold raw eggs in the morning.
One of the great things about this 100mile endurance series is the chance to compete against new people and get a gauge on who’s out there. The pre-reg list for this race lacked most of the familiar names so everything was up in the air. At the start line I leaned over to my friend Trish, pointed out a rather fit looking jockey and said he looks strong. I’ll tell you now, he (Brad Cole) ended up 2nd after we rode together practically the whole race, and I didn’t drop him till the last 11 miles of single track. My sister said I should start picking horses at the track.
The race started with a couple miles of road climbing before turning left into the single track. I ended up first in the single track only to have Brad come around me and turn up the pace. Pretty quickly Brad and I, along with two other 100K riders seperated ourselves from the pack on the slick, rain soaked trails. I felt like a toddler trying to draw a straight line, and could barely control my front tire through the corners. After going down once we all started to yo-yo with each through the single-track that lasted almost the entire first 25 miles before aid station 1, which we missed....
And so began a day of second guessing, backtracking, cursing and general chaos. Just before Aid Station 1, which had a mandatory check in, Brad and I came to an intersection with no arrows. We had dropped the 100Kers and were now wondering WTF. I knew where an aid station was because we had come out right at our cabin and I had an idea about where we were. A mile down the road we came to Aid station 4, who had no Idea where we were or how to get back on track. With a sense of doom creeping in, we turned to back track and started meeting up with riders who came out at the same place. Fortuntatly one of them knew how to get around to AID1 and the 8 of us rode the road for a couple of miles. We ran into Ryan Odell the promoter who put us back on track and said he would check the problem. Brad and I weren’t so happy about loosing a 10 min lead on most of the top guys, but fortunatly we didn’t have to bring up the subject as we left the Station, since most of the riders were gentlemen and waited for Brad and I to get up the road a little. I was surprised to see a fully ridged SS had left with us, but I felt sorry for him and didn’t feel a need to say anything.
By the time we got out of the single track at Aid Sta 1 a long gravel and paved road section was welcome relief. Brad and I sort of worked together and chatted a lot not really attacking but just keeping it steady. The constant short steep hills and long rollers made it a tough course, and Brad was proving to be a steady diesel. Though we felt very alone I was worried about late comers like Skip Brown or Garth Proser, rolling up on us and eventually the two 100ker’s krept up on us. Anthony Slowinski (eventual winner) said his buddy just decided to pull all the way up to us. That was sort of a surprise and a little ominous so we all decided to get a little more organized and the four of us did some steady pulling together.
I questioned in my head the ethical delima of working with racers who weren’t actually in our race, but decided that everyone has the opportunity to do the same, so the playing field was a little more level. a few miles before Aid Sta 2 we hit a long single track section, with some really fun downhiller features and a few good technical sections. I once again ended up first in. Without really meaning to I started to gap the other three riders and by the time we popped out to Station 2 I had a minute on them. With a quick stop involving some lube from Garth’s (who had dropped out) pocket I took off into another long section of single track. I figured i’d let it roll and let Brad feel a little pressure. I rode the next 45min alone and could have stayed that way for a while if it hadn’t been for a missed turn on a long gravel section that I had to turn around and ride back up. So once again Brad and I ended up riding together, not killing it but making steady. Just before station 3 a long rails trail that took about an hour to ride had to be one of the most mental karate chops the riders recieved all day. The long straight slog was a big bully to my fading brain. The Groups of Amish girls walknig barefoot were the only distractions.
Though I went through my obligatory hour 7 bonk I kept the secret agent face in full effect looking ahead while assessing the situation with my peripherals. With about twenty to go I started to feel like a win was possible, since the last 11 miles, after station 4, would be mostly trail. Brad let me lead in to the trail there and even proposed that we role in together and since I had waited for him earlier in the day he would give me the win. I half agreed and rolled on, but as soon as I heard him say he was blowing I never looked back. What can I say, points are based on time off leader’s. I started to feel my own bonk coming on with about 2miles to go when i came out to the bottom of a resevior dam. I couldn’t tell where to go unitl I looked up the fortress like wall of the dam and saw ribbon lining the steps that started half way up. The steps were necessary since it was so steep any walking would have resulted in a slide back down. The other stab in the back was the false finish, where you come to the resort and a just when a sense of relief starts to settle in then they tell you to take a left up and through the woods to a field where I used my granny gear for the last 100 feet to the finish, 4 minutes ahead of Brad.
Overall the course was great but the poor marking was rampant and really took away a lot of the flow that could have made the race much more enjoyable.

Bikes and Blood

Back from Fontana CA, and its my first day back on the bike. Weather is Perfect and I decide to join the Tuesday night A ride around the drives. I leave work and head for the river path. As I'm coming down the ramp to the river I see a basket ball in the middle of the path at the landing and think to myself to say somehthing about getting the ball out of the way to the three kids who I assume are owners of it. But as I get to the bottom I see that one kid is sitin gon the bench with his head in his hands and blood dripping off his forehead on the the ground. THen the other kids ask me if I have a phone to call 911. Turns out their 17yr old friend went to jump the bench and hit the iron beam above it. He was sent flying backwards and proceeded to bleed a scarlet tide. Through my sunglasses the blood looked floudrecent as it dripped on the ground. I could tell from the converstation he had with 911 that they wouldn't have an easy time finding the place, so I waited around till I saw the ambulance pass us by. I chased him down where they were parked getting ready to call for better directions. Then a strange thing happened as I was trying to talk to the Medic...This guy rides up on his bike and starts acusing them of joyriding with the lights on. At least thats what I think he was talking about, but it was such an unexpected confrontation that we were stunned for a second before we could finally say "we have an emergency, go Away!" As soon as I saw the boys meet with the Ambulance i took off to catch my ride.
So I make it to the drive and after a while I see the pack of riders coming. I sit on the side of the road thinking I would just let them pass and then catch up...That was a little unrealistic. After about 10min of 30-32mph I realized I would have to short cut them to the other side of the river to try a different method of catching on. I managed to beat them to the stop lights in front of the Museum and joined the group. They didn't waste much time crnking it back up to 30mph and keeping a steady train pushing it. I was impressed and definatly working my tired legs off. We completed one lap and as we headed around for the second one something happened. Apparently there was a sprint line, because the speed suddenly jumped to 34+mph. as I'm sitting behind the chaos that a bunch sprint is I see bodies start to lean, and then hear a loud pop, followed by bodies flying in the air. A huge pile-up ensues and as I'm hard on my brakes a rider zipps by me and hits the football tackle at speed and does a front flip. everything happened so fast, but I still see it in slow motion. Like a stick of dynamite the group just exploded, the the bodies were scattered in the right hand lane. Flesh was taken down tto the bone on knees, knuckles, foreheads, lips, backs and butts. One person was left in the middle of the lane unable to move or be moved due to excrutiating pain. Everyone who was not seriously hurt was instantly at the sides of the wounded and taking assesment of the situation. The blood was rich and dark, and poured down faces slower than the boy I had seen earlier. The difference was significant. Injured riders had the stunned look that was a cross of disbelief and pain. Like getting into a bath that is to hot and not wanting to move to much. I admit my reaction was less than sympathetic, and I was almost pissed at the whole situation. It seemed like a waste to me to be out on a ride and be put at risk of serious injury. I know all the riders involved are experienced and in no way novices, but that only highlights the uncontrollable and eminant threat of danger involved in this sport. I rode home thankfull to have myself in one piece.

Funtucky, CA

I made a mistake. And it hurt. Thanks for the bike Elk but in the end I believe the damage may be permenant. Fontana (Funtucky) CA has a strange composition. As you drive in it looks to be industrial truck lots, dusty and chainlinked. But a block later you find yourself amongst cultured green lawns and houses half hidden by privacy walls to keep out the chainlinks. On the edge of this prefab planned community sits Southridge Park. Baseball and soccer fields perfectly manicured for parking a thousand bike racing people. The back of the park is bordered by treeless scrubbush filled foothills that are perfect for mountainbike trails, rattlesnakes and paintballers.
The Marathon race took me 4hrs 13min to complete 7 laps totaling approximatly 50+ miles. 20min off the winners time. On my bike with one 34x16 gear and no suspension there were times when it was no longer a test of mind over matter. Matter almost won. I broke down after the race, but it didn't matter anymore, because it was over. I ended up 11th in the Open class of 20 mostly pro men. So though I would have liked to break the top 10 that might have been a little unrealistic. I lost three places in the last two laps.

Thanks Elk, Going to Fontana

Going to NORBA National Fontana CA

Mark Ellsaser has stepped up to the plate and is lending me his fully ridged TI Indy Fab single speed and I’m going to California. Gonna race the Marathon and Maybe the Single Speed Division. I’ll be covering the Pro XC and ShortTrack races for Cyclingnews.com. Look for my photos and words and if you like them let someone know.
My friend Ben Parks and his fiance, Jen, are putting me up and loaning me a car, while I’m in the Inland Empire. Thats what they call the region between LA and Redlands. It seems rather ominous. I’ll be on the lookout for pirates, expatriots, missionaries and exiled dictators, or maybe I’ll fit right it. Bike Murderer.

AMBC, Boya

GreenBriar AMBC 4-30-06

As my friend says I “punched my hardcore card” again this weekend by breaking my bike. I always thought there was something extra in a person who had a couple broken frames under their belt. I’ve now got one. “Stupid” might be a better word than “extra”.
The Greenbriar race looked to be a real showdown, with all the local Trek boys and a couple other Pros showing up for the only NORBA AMBC race in the region. For some reason us Mid-Atlanticians dont seem too fond of the MTBing’s governing organization. The extra pressure was on since the Pro’s were in a seperate class and at the end if you are last your name is at the bottom, no matter how stacked the list is.
Going into the woods I ended up with the hole shot. Jeff Schalk of Trek was willing to rub a little elbow at the start, but conceded before the first climb. I didn’t really want to be out front, and would have prefered to to let someone else set the pace. I led the troop of 8 to the top before Chris Eatough came around and controled the pace on the first technical decent. He kept looking over his shoulder, I think to make sure his boys were within range and then he began to slow.
This is where it pays to know the course, I decided to go around him while he waited for his boys, only to find the reason for his slowing had to be the rather long and technical climb just ahead. Once again I found myself out front when I didn’t want to be and had to set pace on this next climb. About half way up Brandon Draugelis comes around and sits in front of me for half a minute before attacking and pulling away. I was content to let him go since we were only half way through the first lap of four, and none of the others behind me seemed to concerned. At the top with Brandon out of site I decided to let it role and maybe close a little on the super fast decent.
This is where things went wrong. I was feeling great, pedaling big-little, through the corners, over waterbars and BLAMM-O. I clipped a pedal and was instantly thrown on the ground. I would have payed to see it. Trek boys got a good look. It happened so fast that one second I’m rolling and the next I see Trek colors on their brakes from a grounds-eye view. They all slowed asked if I was okay, and miraculously I was on my feet saying ‘yeah, go, go’. A little dazed I grabbed my scattered things, straightened my seatpost and got back on.
I started slow, making sure I was really together and not fooling myself by letting adrenaline mask some dangling appendage. I could never really pick up the momentum, but really wanted to at least get a good ride in, even if it ment going super slow. After starting the second lap and coming to the technical section again, I didn’t make a corner and ran head on into a tree, effectively loosening my headset. At that point I figured I better cut my loses and walked in.
After cleaning up and inspecting my bike I noticed my crankarms were spaced unevenly in relation to my chainstays. And upon closer inspection i found I the chainstay had cracked almost clean through at the non-drive side seem. I murdered my bike! Feels sort of good. I should get some health insurance.

Coincidences

Funny things happen.
Saturday morning my friend calls and says he's in Philla, looking for a $100 bike to commute to work on. I say impossible, but I'll keep my eyes open. 3pm at work a kid walks in with a trek1100. Says a friend gave it to him to pay off a debt, but bike is to big. Bike looks to be the right size for my friend, I offer him $150. Sunday morning my soon to be commuting friend gets a new bike!

Todays race. AMBC Greenbriar race. I worry on the way there about taking time off to work on my house and next weeks trip to NORBA in CA. I start the race feeling great, only to clip my pedal at full 'big ring, little cog' speed. Fortunatly I only break my bike. Rear chainstay. So now I might take the time off anyways, work on the house, race local on a borrowed single speed and save some money. That is called "going with it" or making 'lemons out of sour grapes'.

Michaux race report

Michaux Maximus
First race of season.


It was a dark and stormy night, and then morning came and it was still dark with more rain on the way. The most people ever lined up for the start of Michaux Maximus’s Monster race. in the line up from IF was myself, Laurie Webber, Steve Schwartz. Buck was ill and played support. One big loop, 33 miles of wet rocks. Well maybe not all rocks, some gravel road and a couple 20min+ climbs. Michaux definitely lived up to its reputation as (in manys’ opinion) the most challenging course around. It’s the place where single speeders think about gears and fully ridged folk borrow suspension forks.
This year the race organizers, always the masochists, chose to make the monster loop the “money” race, which meant the competition was pulled from the expert race and placed neck to neck in the 3hr plus race of attrition. Trek Pros Chris Eatough and David Duval as well as local hotshot Brandon Dragulais showed looking for the green stuff.
Unlike the relatively casual atmosphere of previous Monster race starts this one went off at a high pace and felt more like a short XC race. My goal at the beginning of the race was to keep my bike together in one piece, because I have, as most people who have done a Michaux race or two, know the chances are good you’ll be walking out of the woods.
After about a quoter mile of gravel road to help sort out the field before the first section of trail. And then once in the trail its like a game of 52 card pick up. Bad line everywhere, I saw Duval go over his handlebars in front of me, people pass me then get passed 10 sec later. Everything gets reshuffled. Home field advantage comes in handy with all the false lines available and I still took some bad roundabout ways. I decided before the start to run some sections that I can normally ride, but under the stress of racing and with goons all around it can be better to run over the rocks. I came out of this section in about 4th place, but thought i was further back. The next 20 min of rocky off-camber ATV trail is a good time to set a tempo and I picked off two Getttysburg Riders, Jake Gettier, and Mike Kieffer, both longtime riding partners.
Once past them I resisted the urge to look back and just kept riding. It was going to be a long race and no need to worry about people yet. More trails, a new section was added, real tight and fun. When I came out to a water station I got cheered on and they seemed excited. I didn’t realize it but I was actually in second place about a minute behind Eatough. About 1.5hrs in we came to the big 20 min climb Dead Woman's Hollow. I could see Eatough ahead of me and I timed myself at a 1:20min behind. That was exciting since he’s a good marker, one of those people you just dream about hanging with. At the top it started raining and we proceeded down the backside of the mountain at 30+mph on gravel roads. The decent forebode another long climb back over what we just climbed but this time on single and dual track.
At the top I felt a fade and new that I needed to pace myself since I was two hours in and probably had about another 1.5hrs left.I stopped for the second time to put air in my rear tire which had a slow leak from the start.
For the sake of your time and mine; I’ll summarize the end. Super Technical stuff, then Super new Technical stuff, met up with the Sport riders, did final climb to the finish, came through the finish line and asked how much time Eatough had on me. Apparently None!! He made a wrong turn while putting his jacket on at the top of Dead Woman's Hollow. He assumed the course went the old way. Always keep your head up and never Assume. So I won my first MTB race of the season. A huge relief. It’s always nerve racking starting a new season, wondering if your training went well.