Lost at Sea

I was actually lost at sea once.  We were adrift in the Pacific off the coast of Costa Rica. Our 16ft panga getting blown out to sea for 10 or 12 hours.  But that's another story.  The issue now is the way I feel after not touching a bike in nearly thirty days.  I am lost at sea again.

Other parts of my life go on as usual, but I'm a bit out of sync.  In the last year I have finally been able to spend a fair amount of time on my bike; for the first time in 5 years.  After no riding for the last month I know the bike is once again an essential part of the whole.

OTB

Off the bike.  It is good and it is bad.  It's been over three weeks since I've rolled.  Two weeks was good, three weeks is not good. Time to do whatever it takes to  get out there.  Get out on the frozen tundra, clean out the pipes.  It's been so god damned cold everything in the garage is frozen solid.

My last attempt at getting the CX rig running was the night before States when I had the garden hose in the shower...  No it's not what you think; the thing was iced up solid and my bike was caked in dried mud from the last Green Mountain CX mudfest.  Eventually I got the thing thawed out and was able to spray down the bike, leaving a brown stain on the otherwise white blanket of snow in the backyard.  Our babysitter was intrigued, I tried to explain but she didn't get it.

It's 22 degrees. I have to go pick up my daughter from school so I throw the bike into the garage. When we get back I go out to spray some lube on the chain and take a spin around the block to see how she's runnin'.  Frozen solid.  Drops of water from the spray down are suspended from the top tube.  Done.

That was a week ago.  Time to get back out and fly with the birds.

Give Thanks

My first CX season is done.  How could I have let those last three races slip through my lazy fingers.  Out of town for a couple, and on injured reserve for the last.  But it was more than that.  I lost the drive at the end of the season.  Shorter days, family commitments, but mostly me.  I still raced a lot more than I had planned on, and now I have lots of room for improvement next year.

The best thing about not being able to race at the states this year was that I got to watch all the boyz in my class do battle.  The course looked brutally good and it seemed to play a large part in the outcome of the races throughout the day.  I watched the start from up on the hillside and saw Faia just dart out across the parking lot.  He was on a mission from god... or someone.  Its strange how from a distance it doesn't look like anybody is actually working that hard.  Just figures rolling easily across the frozen tundra.

We know otherwise.  After 45 minutes in the ring of fire, Faia rolled a tire, Baker took a flyer way off the front, and the rest of the gang just dug deep, crashed hard, and did what they could.  I was shooting the race, but got so caught up yelling and screaming that the shots don't do justice to the suffering that was going on.

And Webber!!!   If you were there you saw it, if you weren't, you should have been.  What a great race between two good friends and teammates!  Great to see Keller just losing his shit in the pits as his two homeboys dropped the field.

What a great ending to an epic CX season on the front range.  Lots of good CX weather made it extra special.  Thanks to all the people that make these races happen.  Thanks to everyone who gets out there and race.  Thanks to all the guys in my class who welcomed me into the field and taught me to suffer again.  I look forward to more next season!

Double Dose

Two days of back to back mud for some head over heals racing.  The 9:45 time slot becomes tricky this time of year as the courses have resembled ice rinks during warm up and then gradually turn to all sorts of mud, hidden ice underneath mud, and generally challenging conditions throughout our race.  Great conditions for racing, as lots of little mistakes will add up and cost you time, energy, and race position.

Saturday down in the Springs was a fun race, and it was cool for me because I raced my first CX race at the same venue earlier this year.  Felt good in the race but that little pavement hill still hurt like it did early season.  Some mud and a few icy spots kept me on my toes but I kept the rubber side down and road smooth.

Shot the Men's and Women's open races and then went and had a couple pints with a friend I hadn't seen in a while.  Good fun shootin' the shit and trading stories.  Doug introduced me to his friend who was at the pub also.  22 year old kid who wrenches in a bike shop and races downhill.  Sounds like the bike he rides as a cross country bike is a 29 lb. single speed.  Gotta love bike people, specially those who make how you ride a bike a priority over what bike you ride.  I'm sure the kid is a hammer too.

Sunday morning I woke up to a flat on the rear so did quick tube change and headed down to Golden.  Scraped the caked mud from my down tube with my Sidi, spilled some lube on the chain and I was good to go.  Halfway through the first lap someone fell on me and pushed my brake pad into my spokes.  By the time I got that all worked out I was off the back.  I worked my way back up the whole race but still couldn't get back to where I needed to be.  Super fun course and the conditions demanded attention at all times.

Good Grief Charlie Brown!

Last Sunday was such a comedy of errors that it was almost funny, but not quite.  I came away laughing at myself, but also feeling pissed that I was such a slacker.  Woke up to around 10 inches of fresh snow in the yard and knew the race would be epic.  For some reason I was not all wound up for it.  Usually I'm physically shaking as I get ready to race. Needing to unleash all the pent up energy from a week of daily day to day.  Today my head was not in it.  The mental is so much of racing.  You have to have the need to crush it, the taste for blood. If that component is missing, results will not come.

The start was brutal.  A long sprint for the pinch, while getting sprayed hard by fifteen wheels, like a hose in the face at 9:45AM and 30 degrees F.  Sweet!  Vision is severely impaired so I sit up a bit to try and see wear we are going and that's all it takes, I'm in 23rd.  The going is tough and passing involves a roll of the dice into the 8 inches of snow on either side of the 10 inch strip of compacted snow that comprises the course.  I sit in for the first lap and watch the lead group ride away.

When we get to the pavement at the start/finish line I maxed out up the hill to get on the front of a group of about 8 or so.  I hit the mud with a few second gap on the group and then immediately stuff my front wheel into a 6 inch sapling that shouldn't have been an issue.  Stacked it hard and the whole group that I just passed laughs as they go by.  I straighten my brake lever and jump back on with my helmet riding down my neck and my shades all jacked up.

Other highlights include losing it on an off-camber section resulting in a firm embrace with a stout bush; getting wrapped up in CAUTION course tape and eventually breaking said tape with my protruding adams apple; a run in with another off camber section resulting in a quick swim in a dry ditch; and basically just a lot of dangerous riding.

Good Grief Charlie Brown!

Love these words, and as always with Rapha, great images.

http://www.rapha.cc/french-broad-river

Pavement is only a way to get to the good stuff.

Dirt Lot

Sometimes a venue in and of itself is inspiring.  This may help in one's effort to obtain results for the day, or it may not.  For me, the Norba Nationals/World Cup course at Mt. Snow Vermont was always an inspiration.  The natural beauty of the area, and the truly challenging nature of the course came together to make for an unforgettable venue. Throw in the naked crit and great things were possible at Mt. Snow.

Sundays race was none of that.  The parking lot smelled of leaky oil drums or some other semi-toxic waste, and the course was far from offering any sort of inspiration.  These are the times when inspiration must come from within.  Working the mind in the direction I need to go. Looking in for what it takes.

I dug pretty deep, but I need to go deeper.

Heaven and Hell

Back to the Res for another romp in the sand, although not as much slogging across the beach as the week before.  For me a hellish course; no climbing, non-technical power course with seemingly endless accelerations out of the corners.  Definitely some fun fast swoopy turns too, but after Saturday's goodness it just felt so contrived.  I know where my work is.

The scene was fantastic as the NACT continued it's weekend invasion of the Republic. The tribe was out in force, showing the curious onlookers what it was  all about.  I left my camera at home in order to fully submerse myself (so to speak) in the days festivities.  Instead of grabbing my camera gear and a bottle of water, I grabbed a brat and a beer...nice.  At first I felt guilty for not shooting the races, but that didn't last long as I soon hooked up with my good friend Ed.

We started at the beer garden sand pit for the Elite Women's race, and then headed out on the course for the Men's race.  Lots of screaming and yelling for the local talent.  Lots of screaming and yelling!  Killer to see the local boys and girls out there dicing it out with the nations best.

Lost in the Supermarket

I know I get all amped up after racing.  Even more so when I have a good race.  Then I get to go out and shoot the Elite Men and Women as they throw down, and I get even more amped.  Today the volume was up to eleven!  The Blue Sky Velo Cup brought out the big guns in US CX and the spectators were all over like ants in chocolate.  The course was a dream; a fluid flowing path of mud in it's many forms.  Stay loose and pedal hard and things work out.

It was great to see some of the local boys out there dicing it out with the guys that get their legs rubbed after the races.  Dwight and Webber are working stiffs, and Pete's 40 years old!  Hats off to you guys.  And to have the current World Champion back in town was cool too.  Do I need to tell anyone Compton crushed the Women's field?

So I've been out in the mud all day riding, running, sliding, shooting, and screamin' at the gladiators, and it's finally time to to go home.  My wife has left me a message to pick up a few things at the store on the way home.  Seems harmless enough.  Then I walk in to the King Sooper near my house.  I feel like I'm on another planet, and it's not planet bike.

The place is packed.  Busier than it should be.  Large numbers of elderly retirees have double parked their carts up and down the isles.  I seem to be invisible as I stand there tying to get through.  I quickly resort to the bumper car method and don't look back.  As I head toward the back of the store for some milk, everybody seems to be moving in slow motion and their voices seem far away and muffled.  What was in that PBR those Mafia boys gave me?

But seriously, that's what racing CX does to me.  It is such an intense 45 minutes, that it literally takes me hours to come back down, beer helps though.

Two Generations

I've been thinking about the last few weekends of racing.  I usually race in the morning, right after the juniors, so I am out on the course warming up when the kids are racing.  To me, there is no better way to start the day than to be out there watching these juniors doing their thing on the course.  Some are totally focused on ripping their lap as fast as they can, while others seem to be taking in the sights along the way.  No matter, they are all having a blast!  Seeing this each morning before my race really puts things into perspective.  If all that is gained from a race is a fix on your jones for competition, keep searching.

I met a kid named Zane at a race earlier this season.  My friend Sean introduced me to him while I was shooting the Men's 45+ Open race.  Turns out Zane's dad Tim is pretty much at or near the front of the field every weekend.  I know this because I have plenty of shots of Tim dicing it out with Thacker, Hodges, and the other big dogs in the 45+ Open.  So weeks go by and I see Zane out and about at the races and I get lots of photos of his dad out there crushing it.

Because I race in the morning and then grab my gear and shoot the Men's and Women's Open races, I am usually toast by the time the Men's Open is over; Beer Thirty.  So I didn't know Zane had been out there crushing his class, which most recently has been the Men's 3's.  Zane is like 16 or something. Last Sunday I introduced myself to Zane's dad, Tim Godby.  We got to chatting and I asked him how Zane got interested in bike racing.  Tim's response, "Keep it fun!"  Oh yeah, and the ACA bumped Zane into the Men's Open class,  he won his first three races in the 3's.

Saturday's race was interesting in the fact that there was a junior football game going on right in the center of the CX course.  It was cool because if I didn't think about it too hard, I felt like all the cheering at the game was for me as I rode circles in the mud.

I have a 4 year old daughter and of course I want her to love the things that I love.  I really hope she doesn't end up as a cheerleader on the sidelines at those games, but I'll support her in whatever she chooses.  Well, of course I can influence her in certain ways.  After my race on Sunday, I went home, picked up Ruby, and took her right back to the Res to watch the Men's Open.  We also caught the little kids race that the folks at Boulder Racing always put on.  Ruby was hooked.  "Daddy, I want to bring my bike next time."   Those words were music to my ears.

Mucky Muck With Icing on Top

Finally some muddy conditions. Not full on start line to finish line mud, but enough to play a factor in the racing. I actually got to start in the first row, as many of the speedsters were at Velo swap. I'll take what I can get. Rolled out and actually held my position from the start for the first time this season, which was cool. Ended up reeling in 4 or 5 guys and finished 7th.

Super fun course with two steep run ups that were slick and mucky muck, just the way we like it. Plenty of big ole mud puddles to charge through, and choosing the wrong line could send you hub deep and doing the superman. Lots of slippery off camber corners and one downhill stretch of single track that went from a little slick on the first lap to slick as snot on the second to even slicker than snot as the race went on. It was stay loose and let it roll as gravity did it's best to pull you down into the brush.  Ran in to my friend Shotty after his race and he had a grin from ear to ear.  Yeah, it was a nice change from our typical dust fest.

Sunday was cool too, spitting snow and gun barrel grey.  Icing on yesterdays cake. Called up in the second row but got caught with my thumb in my butt as there was a short roll up in which 20 guys passed me in 20 feet.  Spent the whole race working back up to 15th. Hate running, don't like sand much...had a blast!!

The Webbenator

One of the great things about coming back to Colorado and getting back on two wheels is running into old friends. One such friend is someone I met while racing for Trek during the 1993 season. It was a big team with folks from both coasts and few of us from CO.  Among those from the East, was a quiet and reserved kid from Sugarloaf Maine; Pete Webber.

Pete was totally Pro.  He was 100% into being a bike racer.  I was a bit more into getting done with the racing in Georgia or Indiana or New York, and getting back to the Butte to ride the goods. So we traveled, ate, raced, and roomed together for a few nationals.  I guess he thought I was an OK guy because he ended up coming out to Crested Butte and staying with us for part of the season.  When I told him, "sure you can stay with us!" I'm not sure he knew he would be staying in a 600 sq ft box where the bathroom may as well as not have had a door.

Pete stayed for a while, but when his girlfriend Sally arrived, she was having none of that and they moved on to more spacious accomodations.  I don't blame her.  Anyways, myself, Riepe, Patrick Myall, and Stubbe, got to give Pete a good sampling of the local single track.  I believe it may have been his first taste of true Colorado goodness.  I hope he enjoyed it. As anyone who knows Pete will attest, he is truly a good person and I won't forget our season with Trek and the laughs we all had.

A recent post by Keller actually sparked this rumination.  I remember when that Fisher ad came out.  I must say I was pretty surprised.  Although it had only been a few years, Pete was obviously coming out of his shell.  What were they feeding him over there at Fisher?

Ride on Pete....

Nice

Finally able to sneak out for a little ride today. Hadn't ridden since the two races last weekend. It took that long for my legs to stop hurting. The crash on Saturday left me bruised and battered.

After some rain the other day, the backyard loop was hard and super tacky. Felt good to let it roll through the open fields.

The bike is totally dialed with new cables and pads. Amazing what a little TLC can do for the ride. The legs felt good too.

Nice...

Let's Race Bikes

Guess I'll get right into the racing as it has been a passion of mine for over twenty years. Last weekend was a two day suffer-fest. Both courses were rugged. Fair amount of climbing for CX courses as I gather, this being my first season of cross and all. Got relegated to the back of the pack at Valmont due to some non-ACA call-up procedures introduced by Bobby Noyes in which he called up all those who helped out with the park. Hell yeah, they deserved it, I hadn't contributed to the cause, and what a beautiful cause, thanks Bobby and all.

So I'm sucking dust in 30th or so up the first climb, maxing out to get up to where I want to be. First two laps are hectic with the dust and the close quarters. Eventually it opens up and I work my way through a group of 5 or 6 riders into 14th or so. One more guy up ahead and then a gap that's gotta lead to the top ten. I've got the patience of a monkey so I try to pass on the inside of the loosest corner on the course. Front wheel washes out and I take the other guy down with me. "Sorry dude, that was lame." is all I can say. 7 or 8 pass me as I straighten my bars. I'm back on, but my shifting is screwed, and I start to cramp soon after. Damage control to the finish line.

Sunday in Golden goes better. Called up but still let 10 guys slide by on the hole shot. Work up to 15th or so and get in the groove. Killer course with lots of bike handling involved. Stay smooth, ride clean. Finish just out of top 10. Work to be done.

Am I really blogging?

I really dislike the word blog. It makes me think of really large people all trying to squeeze into an elevator on a hot and sweaty day. Not too pleasant. But I guess everybody is doing it..., blogging that is. I figure it's a great place for me to collect my thoughts, or maybe disperse my thoughts. Maybe others will be interested, but I'm not sure why. Something to do with our society's need to know about other peoples business? I suffer from it. I have watched certain reality shows since back in the day. Not sure why.

I have quite a few blogs that I follow. This is a new affliction, one that I have only recently discovered deep within my darkest depths. It started when I was reborn into the cycling world. Years ago I raced mountain bikes for about five seasons. I was lucky enough to get into racing in the 90's when the money was flowing through the bike industry. Plane tickets, rental cars and accommodations for all the Norba Nationals were taken care of by the team. Six each season. The Colorado Points series was also a big deal back then so I also did at least eight of those each summer. Needless to say, my view of bike riding was fairly focused on racing. Things are different now. Five years off the bike due to injury, work, and life.

So yes, a rebirth of sorts, and with this rebirth, a new realization that I am part of a bigger tribe. A tribe consisting of many types. We don't all ride the same bikes, love the same rides, or even share the same values, but we all love the wonderful mechanical creation called the bicycle. Part of being a member of a tribe is contribution. I attempt to contribute to the community with my photography and my ramblings. Hopefully they provide inspiration to others to contribute in their own way.

Cheers