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.

Going to Colorado, Wanna go?

So I'm driving to Colorado for the Marathon National Championships on July 4th and then the Breck Epic from the 5th-10th. If anyone wants to drive out with me to share the drive/costs let me know. We need to leave in time to get there on the 2nd.

You could fly back or hang out and do the races too. Right now flights from Denver are super cheap on Southwest.

Let me know!!

Not Quite Right: Still good times

Yesterday's ride was a Google maps compilation. So 6 miles in we turn to go up Dennison rd and get a gate and washed out gravel. Oh, and the weather was what BikesnobNYC calls epic. I flatted immediately past the gate. After some turning around and exploring for the rest of the ride, we logged 60 miles, with one highlight being rt. 534 through Hickory Run State Park.

Next time I'll the Skinny Chicken to get the 411

Tomorrow's Jim Thorpe Road Ride!

View Larger Map

chicken songs

thunderheist - jerk it from thatgo on Vimeo.

If one aint working get another

This whole year cycling/ racing has presented one interesting obstacle after another. Each being solvable, thank you, and therefor each being a moment of pride in a job well dealt with. From India to DSG, to this weekend at the Mohican 100 I've come across a problem that when resolved it makes me feel quite accomplished even without a trophy to display.

I suppose that is why racing bikes can be considered an instant gratification device, not unlike crack. I mean anything that makes you feel good can be addictive, even if the process of getting it can be as painful as riding a 100 miles or robbing a convenience store and getting your leg run over as you trip while sprinting away across a busy highway.

There are very few places in life where a mistake can seem so colossal, while actually being so trivial and repairable. Sure if you take a wrong turn during a race after having almost bridged a gap created by an earlier crash, it's going to seem as if all was for naught and the purpose of continuing is questionable. At that point one has to find a good reason to continue.

At the Mohican I went through a list of reasons why to bail, which turned out to be an existential debate on why am I here. I'm here because it's part of a series, and since I'm no longer in a position to get worthwhile points I should ditch. If I do this race then I might be expending unnecessary energy, I should ditch. I could quit and race tomorrow at Iron Hill and make some money to feed my dog. Do 100 milers appeal enough to me anymore? I mean really, the sense of accomplishment is old hat. I've done close to 20 of these things, most of the courses 3 times at least and this was going to be my 4th time around this track.

That's when I realized that the sense of accomlishment comes in a variety of colors. I do sort of like coming from behind. I did feel responsible for leading 5 other riders astray when I missed the turn and they had come from a long ways away. Maybe I should vindicate myself by trying to stick with it and do some work to make their time feel a little more worthwhile.

Eventually that seemed like the thing to do. I put my head down, tried to make up for lost time and kept the pace decent. When I was on the front I tried to do my pentenance. Surely one or two of the lead group would fall off and someone in my group would have a chance to take maybe a top 5. Eventually it came down to Bart Gillepsie from Utah, Rob Litenwalner and myself. Bart was one of those guys I had come to respect just out of seeing his name and understanding him to be a good racer, and I was super excited to get to race him. UNfortunately it was under the auspices of me getting us lost and we didn't really get to have the cage match I wanted. Rob is an old friend by now and he was having a great day, getting dropped then ramping it up to catch back on.

On the last few climbs, Bart pulled away, and all I could do was motor along with Rob as my riding partner. At aid station 5 Rob got hot bottles that had been in the sun all day, and when he had to stop at station 6 I was able to continue on.

The last mile of the race course passes by my car and since I had long given up on caring about the possiblilty of counting the race to my overall series standing I took the pleasure in letting my dog, Gertie, out of the cage and she did her first unleashed trail run with me to the finish. Rob caught us just before the end and offered to wait but I told him to go on and in the end I finished 9th just behind Rob and Gertie.

Well that was over, I felt accomplished despite the race issues of an early stick in the rear wheel and going the wrong way. And I felt really good. It's too bad I didn't have an opportunity to ride with the boys on the front.

After eating I went back to camp, cleaned up and saw Elk come through then my traveling partner Nik Schaffer. After little socializing and eating Nik and I jumped in the car and followed Matt Ferrari home to State college where we slept, then woke up early enough to eat an early breakfast before heading to the Mid-Atlantic race at Iron Hill where I wold get a chance to crush myself and maybe earn back some traveling cash.

As usuall the race was humid, but the course was super packed and after a quick start with the legs punching me, I managed to go to the front and stay there. Holy crap I couldn't believe I felt that good. And I got paid enough to cover my weekend expenses! Ahh the life of a desperate Pro, chasing the bills.

Up next is the Hoo-Ha and then the Cowbell challenge in NC. I'm looking for traveling partners to NC if anyone is interested. Then I go to Colorado on the 28th. And If anyone wants to drive out with me to split the trip let me know. You'll probably have to fly back from Denver since I'm not coming back till after the 18th of July.

I'll be doing to Marathon Nat. Championships in Breckenridge then the Breck Epic then the Breck 100.

See ya.

So Glad to Have You

I've been longing for this. An East Coast Mountain Bike stage race. I'm not saying that I have anything against the West Coast, Coasta Rica, BC or India, but I'm a little sick of the travel necessary to go and race a great format.

Imagine if every time you wanted to eat Thai food, you had to go to Thailand. Every time I wanted to race a format that I particularly love I had to go to someone else's home. Not really satisfying and I always end up comparing it to riding back home.

So now there is the Pisgah Mountain Bike Stage race. Four days of riding in the Pisgah state forest of NC. Every day we leave from the same town, do a different loop and get an incredible amount of singletrack. Plus it's going to have all the climbing you want without having to be at 12,000ft. My lungs are so happy.

Todd Brenham has proven to be a great promoter with his other races, the Off Road Assault on Mount Mitchell and the Swank 65, so I believe he'll have this pretty dialed right off the bat.

Two Races: Mind over Mud

I'm only going to post pics from the Dirt Sweat and Gears race I did this past weekend in Tennessee (none of them I took. Except the car). Problem is I've been unmotivated to get my camera battery charged, and I think I'm a little burned from the photo explosion that was India. (Yes I'm sorry that hasn't been updated!)

That story is so overwhelming, I'm not sure where to start, so I'll get current and travel back in time later.

Here are a couple of links with good coverage.
www.cyclingdirt.com
www.cyclingnews.com

See picture above, feel the utter hopelessness that man is experiencing. In the middle of the race, in the woods, in the middle of the course, if you were silently trudging along listening to the sound of your feet making the sucking noise as they were pulled from the jaws of the mud at each step, the silence was bound to be broken by the primal scream of some spirit that was being broken by the trail.

My own spirit was in danger of being stolen away. I had to yell some explicatives at the ground because it's well known that is how you deal with mother nature. Scream in her face like she's a crowd sometimes.


I'm not sure what it is that makes me hate quitting. I guess ultimately I realize that very few things kill you, and our bodies have an amazing ability to forget pain due to a natural process that helps us repeat mistakes like returning to the abusive relationship I have with racing. That took a year off my life. Mother nature is coming for me. I knew she was waiting, but I walked right into her backhand.

Last week I thought I had gotten the advantage by surviving Michaux Maximus, (a known abusive partner), when I came out in first place after riding all day in the rain, playing it cautious and tip-toeing around the rocks in my way. That was good. I was on a high, thinking I had achieved a new mental level of calm in the face of prize fighter.

Apparently the forces of nature were only delivering their warning through meger messengers, and when it it came time to answer to the sky directly I was humbled. I was reminded that I'm not that in control of my chi as I'd like. I think alot of Chi was demolished in the woods of southern Tennessee last Saturday.

I guess it's fitting that when you gather some of the biggest names in American endurance racing in one spot you are bound to have other forces ready to tussle. A big pot of money brought the names as well the fact that the race is part of the National Endurance Calendar. Name dropping would include Jeremiah Bishop, Evan Plews, Josh Tostado, Brandon Draugalis, Ernesto Maranchin and me.

I had cordinated with Bishop to car pool down, but he decided his wife and kid were more important, so I lucked out and had my tenant/roommate/ housemate/ Sponsor, Levi Olson come down with me. His parents lived an hour away from the race and he knew how to drive/ change tires and build bikes. Ultimately the most important function Levi performed was cleaning bikes.

Thank you Levi! Each bike took about 20 minutes to get the mud off and he was cleaning 3 bikes a lap between me and Bishop. I'm not sure who was more beat at the end than I was.

So Levi and I loaded up my new/used car and headed south with two bikes on the roof and one frame with a bunch of parts in the car. I'm sad to see my little Subie go but my nephew will get a few more good miles out of her, and I now have 'the grey squirrel' to take care of.So we made it down in luxurious style, with working cruise control and AC! 14hrs of traveling, one bike ride, one rack replacement and multiple conversations about bike related things Levi and I got to his parents house at about 2:30am on thursday night. The next morning we drove for the longest consecutive period with out being rained on since we left to the race venue, where we found a field full of weirdos riding two-wheeled machines obscured by a layer of mud and hay. Turns out they were bikes and when I realized that my pre-ride would result in that I decided that a road ride would be the best choice for a warm up. Jeremiah and I went out for a cruise but on the way back in curiosity got the best of us and we decided to explore a little of the course. I got a mile in and said no thanks, turned around and tried to get out of there before Jeremiah returned to ask Levi to clean his bike.

Plus we had a bike to build if I was going to have a second ride for the day. Turns out I couldn't have done it without another machine. I had just gotten my 08 bike back from the factory with reconditioned with a new team paint job and I was eager to get'r up and running, knowing that certain death was instore for any bikes being ridden the next day.

Of course I was missing an essential (in my mind) spacer so I had to make the bike go..Coaster in place, the outlook was good since it hadn't rained yet and the race was bout to start. At the start line with a minute to go, the skys delt us the joker card. Rain was coming down as the RC plane circled above us, inviting lightening.

Lap one I took it relatively easy. I had the wrong tire on the back, and figured I had plenty of time to make up time on the three people ahead of me. I'd get Levi to switch tires as I went out for the next lap and things would be good. About an hour later lap one was done, my bike was exchanged and the rain was starting to slack off. JB had 3 or 4 minutes on me. That didn't seem like a big deal since we had 11 more hours to go.

This is where I make note to self. When a muddy race is emminant go to front. About 15minutes into lap two the rain had stopped and the mud began it's grabby, sucky, sticky, clogging ways. I soon had no drive train that I could see. My tires were the size of mack truck rubber and my bike weighed 50 lbs. This is where the trail ended, the novelty began for 2 minutes and the misery began for 6.5 hours. Riding downhill was hard and required pedaling. Riding on flats felt like a sprint on a stationary bike with the resistance turned to 11.

Bikes began exploding all over the course, as if someone had a super weapon that tuned into the frequency of bike, and shattered them with sound waves. Some how my bike escaped, probably because it was no longer a bike and had turned into the swamp thing.

Not my bike above, but a good representation. By the end of lap two I had screamed for forgiveness a few times while somehow moving past Tostado and Brandon, which put me in the unfortunate position of being in 2nd place and in the money, enough to think that quitting was real stupid. I concluded that if I trudged forward as if a sherpa carrying the goods for the money I would be alright. A couple curses along the way would release the steam building up in my 30 lb shoes.

It didn't even bother me that I was grabbing trees with poison ivy all over to help me hoist myself two extra feet up the trail. One of the rare times I could ride. Notice this bike had my 700x45c tires on it. The no longer in production Mutano Raptors cut a half hour from my 3hr lap times. That meant I could ride 2.5 of the 10 miles verses 2 of 10 with the other bigger tires. But no matter what tires you rode, it sucked. As in the mud didn't let go.
I couldn't believe what we were doing to the trails or ourselves by continuing on with the charade of a race. Fortunately they were private trails and the owner was the promoter, and he said keep going, until he realized that with 4 hour laps no one should go out past 6, inorder to avoid people getting lost in a mud bog at night. I came in around 5 and Jeremiah was there waiting for me, and was ready to call a truce in order to avoid going out for another lap. No protest from me and we waited to see if third place was willing to do the same if they came in before 6.

I lost a couple of years in the race, but Levi was key to Jeremiah and my success. I stayed in second, while the legendary Andy Applegate got 3rd with 4 laps also. Last year the winner got 11 laps in. Draugalis only did 2 laps and got 4th overall after getting 2nd last year with 11 go arounds.
Indy Fab rider Kylie rode on a coed-duo team for her birthday!
Seriously that was the worst thing ever. But like I said before, my brain has a way of making me forget the miserable activities so I might go back.

Michaux Reminder!

Since there seem to be a lot of racing choices this weekend, I thought it might be fitting to let you know that Michaux Maximus is going to be something worth considering.

For 2009 the course has been almost completely changed. A lot of the course was designed out by Tomi, from Tomi cogs, and in my opinion is going to blow the doors off pretty much every other race out there. 45 miles of mostly new, or new to non locals, will great you.
There are some classic trails in there I haven't done in years, after burns and logging erased access to them. Consider it if you are a trails rider.

It's the race you'll find riders like Eatough, Bishop, Dragaulis and myself at. Why do laps on something that doesn't change or challenge you with the new?

Relax we're late..

Taxes done, now back to the story.

Fires, smoke, small showers, tea.

As I was saying, perspectives are important, and happiness is easiest to maintain when expectations are constantly being updated.

After traveling for two days I figured my first priority was to put the bike together and get a ride in. It seemed like the best option in the face of the wall of bs what was coming our way. I spent the morning putting my bike together in front of a crowd of people. Again another theme to get used to was being a spectacle where ever we went with the bikes. India is probably one of the few places where my drunk and prematurely dropped wheelies are appreciated.

After my ride to the North Sikkim boarder I returned to find Doug sitting in the tourism office. That was some good timing. We cheered each others familiar faces, exchanged funny horror stories about rides, food and prison cell hotel rooms.

In the tourism dept I come face to face for the first time with the man who I have been working with for the past 6 months to promote the race in the states. He is the event manager and responsible for the racers comfort for the next 11 days. When Tim says he looks like the man from Indiana Jones who ripped peoples hearts out, I should have seen that as forshadowing.

Still at this point we are all glad-handing each other, smiling and getting introduced around.
I go to Doug's dingy hotel hanoi and tell him he needs to come to our place the next day.