101 approaches

Two more days of work until I leave for the 101. I can't wait.

The lady bear and I are heading to sunny Philadelphia on Wednesday to stay with some friends. We're going to a show Thursday night, after which I'm going to book it back to my gracious host's residence and try to get as much sleep as possible. We'll make the trip out to Coburn on Friday morning and set up camp, and I'll try to sleep some more.

The grumbler is staying home for this race, because the lady bear can't drive a stick (can a stick be driven? it can't in my opinion. she can't shift a manual transmission. that's what i really mean), and I'm anticipating that after racing 100 miles, I will not be capable of driving anything.

My goal for this race is to place in the top quarter overall. (of course in the land of gilled water bunnys and lumberjacking bovines my goal is to win. but we'll stick to reality) I think that a top 25% finish is an attainable goal as long as I keep eating. I definitely cannot let my self start to run out of fuel this time. The newman-O's and brown rice syrup are on the ready.

After some digging I think I found the correct elevation profile for the course:

From Drop Box

There's gona be some hills. I can feel it.

Mountwood Challenge Race Report

I just checked the website, and the official results are in. 2nd SS and 10th overall. Not to shabby I say.

Unfortunately, I must be very un-photogenic on the bike, because I again failed to make it into any of the event photos. At the risk of wounding my pride, I shall maintain that I am simply to fast to be photographed. Harrumph.

Sunday was rainy. And grey. And a bit nippy. Not my idea of ideal weather. But the race had to go on. 

After signing in at the signing in table in the signing in area, I was presented with a tee shirt, a map of West Virgina, and a sticker. The tee shirt was grey, small, and cotton. The sticker had an adhesive backing. The map was paper. None of the above (or beside depending on the width of your monitor) has any relevance. But I thought I should share anyway. 

After my mandatory quadruple pre-race water closet breaks, I rolled up to the start about a minute before the race began. I lined up in the back again. 

(I'm the handsome devil astride the orange and lime steed)

The course started with a mellow climb up a paved road. I did my best to stay with the geared riders, and to my surprise, I was fairly successful. By success I mean that I wasn't dropped and spit out by the pack, left wheezing on the road side. 

We made a turn onto gravel, and the trail narrowed down. I started working my way around a few riders. Before long, I spotted Gerry Pflug in all his black and orange stripped strippieness. I made some passes and tried to get up with him, assuming that if I could stay close to him I would have a good finish. He kept passing riders in the single track, and I tried to follow, but I just was not making my passes happen as quickly. After a few minutes he was gone.

I settled into a pace and tried to stay smooth. At this point, the trails were a little moist, and traction was sketchy in places, but nothing was unrideable. I was probably a bit to cautious on some turns, but I had qualifying for track and field states in the back of my mind the whole race. I did not want to crash and get hurt. (I have to admit that I am still primarily a distance runner. At least until May 22nd)

The pack thinned significantly, and my passing essentially came to an end. I kept pedaling away and making good turns. The course was almost all cut into the side of a hill, so it kept me on mi toes the whole time. The trail was starting to get a little muddy, and I was starting to get a little glad that I was running a fender. 

Before long, I hit a much dreaded section of downhill switchbacks. I sped down them, made the first turn, pedaled up to speed, braked for the second turn, and promptly shot off the trail. Two riders passed me. I'm not even sure where they came from. I shook it off, and the race was on again. 

I did hammered to try to stay with the two passing riders. I kept with them on the climbs and flats, but as usual, I lost a little ground on the descents. I hit another switchback section, and noticed this fine gentleman on my tail.

He passed me on a section similar to the one I was currently on last race. I was determined not to let it happen again. I weighted my front wheel and managed to keep my bike on the trail through the turns. I struck out and pedaled away from him.

At the bottom of the hill there were a series of wooden bridges. On the first one, about six feet in the air, I almost lost it. I yanked my bars back to the right and averted a disaster. "Ohh hoo whoo. That's a trixy one!" I shouted to the legions of on lookers. They were greatly impressed with my manly man speech.

I hammered up a hill (its a common theme on this course. I don't recollect much flat ground.) Pulled nails out (opposite of hammering.) on the way down, and was spit onto a section of road. The fine gentleman from Trek, we'll call him Stephen, (only because I think that's his name.) was still behind me. I put in a mighty effort on the road, and actually pulled away from him while catching up to another SSer. I grabbed a water at the aid station, almost knocking over one of the helpers (lo siento. and thanks for the agua) and climbed back into the woods. To my extreme surprise, Pflug appeared about 30 meters ahead of me. 

As I caught up with him, I noticed he was standing an awful lot. On closer inspection, I discovered that his seatpost was missing. I spent the next 10 minutes trying to think of something witty to say to him. 

"Rigid SS not hard enough for ya?" was the least lame thing I could muster in my anaerobic state.

His retort was nearly as clever: "Yeah. Right?"

I passed him, but he stayed right behind. The trail was getting extremely muddy now. We were covered in the greasy brown stuff, but I hardly noticed. We were routed back onto the trail for a second lap, and the real mud began.

I'm going to assume that the sport and beginners also rode this section of trail, because it was completely torn apart. My speed slowed to a crawl. I couldn't get out of the saddle because the traction was so bad. I came off the bike at one point, causing Gerry and Steve (who had caught back up) to do the same. Gerry ran and did a cyclocross mount, swinging his leg perfectly across the saddle. Or so he thought. 

But he still had no saddle. I'm not sure how he avoided mashing his delicates, but he seemed ok. Steve decided that since he could spin a nice low gear and keep traction, he would pass. Then Gerry went. I was alone again.

I passed three people with clipboards and asked each one how many miles were left. I was getting tired, and I think my inexperience was showing. I kept slogging along in the mud, hoping the finish was near. 

I found Stephen on the trailside a few miles later with a flat. I raced by, and he DNF'ed for the day. After climbing a hill, I finally got a definite distance to the finish from someone. 

"1/2 mile to go!"

"That's it? really?" I shouted back. But I didn't wait for the reply. I gave all I had left.

Then I crashed. (it was really slippery. i can't be blamed.) 

I rolled in the last few meters without incidence. I was pleased, and figured that I at least had a decent finish. 

1st 2nd

2nd single speed at the Mountwood Challenge. The SS that beat me was Gerry Pflug, who rode almost 20 miles 

without a seat post (yes, he is that good.) The course 

looked like it was covered in a layer of shit 

laden chocolate pudding.

Race repor to follow.

did i mention the mug?

As you can see by the fine self portrait, this mug is roughly the size of my head. Which means that its capacity is similar to that of my brain, and that, good amigos, allows me to drink brain sized amounts of coffee every morning. 

But more importantly, the mug is inscribed with a large blue bear, the ancient deity of window shopping. 

 

In other news, slime tubes are just terrible. I’m not sure what the good people at Slime intended their green mess to do, but if it was coat an unsuspecting cyclists hands in florescent snot, they were successful. 

But honestly, I would rather fill my tires with feces. I mean they're really quite awful. I'll explain tomorrow. 

slue bkys

I'm still a little annoyed by last night's situation, but I'll get over it. I can't decide if I should write a letter to the local police department to tell them how their (my, our) officers treat citizens. Oh wells.

I did get out for an hour on the road today, and it was fantastic. 60 degrees, blue skys, and a slight breeze. It was the kind of day that let me shut out the Jeep that blared it's horn while passing, and the Porsche that felt the need to rev it's engine and shoot by at 70 mph. Ahhhhhh. Bliss.

In other news, I would give my left nostril (only the functional part. I wouldn't want my nose to look funny) to replace every road with single track. 

My bike setup, and more specifically, my method of carrying stuff on my bike setup, needs to get itself straightened out. But I'm not holding my breath on that one. So I guess I will have to straighten it out myself. 

I need to get a saddle bag that actually holds things, and a multi tool that isn't sitting on a trail somewhere in big bear lake. I do still technically own that muti tool, so purchasing a new one is going to hurt all the more. Its frustrating for me to own something, but not be allowed to use it just because I lost it.

Other than losing all my stuff, I think I finally have everything else worked out on my bike. The 50mm stem is the best thing that I've put on my steerer tube. It makes it so so much easier to float over rock gardens, and I can keep more traction on the back wheel when I stand and climb. Muy bueno it is. I've reverted to using broken Spanish to fill space. That's my brain's way of telling me it has nothing more to say. 

top o' the pile

I won't say that I neglected to go some where that I should have gone yesterday, but I did go somewhere that I wanted to be, even though I should not have been there. But that's neither here nor there.
I drove (yes drove I say. new transportation has been acquired. more on that latter.) out to Ohiopyle for a ride in the multiple mountains. I say multiple because there is more than one mountain. Mind blowing, I know.

From Worthless Garbage

Pretty eh? Photo credit goes to someone who has never met me, and certainly is not me

For those of you out of the know, the pile is next to this place:

From Worthless Garbage

Though I can't say I've ever been there (this picture also pirated)

But anyway. The ride. The ride was good.

From Worthless Garbage

(Clicky make more biggy. My route is outlined by the multicolored lines. I changed colors every time I changed direction. Just to keep it interesting. Ya know. And no, I did not ride the magical pink arrows.)

Every trail in Ohiopile either goes up a mountain, or comes down a mountain. That of course excludes the (im)famous rail trail. I started in town and worked my way over to Great Gorge. GG is just full of rootles and rocks, and I must admit I had to walk a large portion of it. At the top I turned left and headed over to the scenic Kentuck overlook. The overlook more than lives up to its name (scenic, not kentuck. I don't know what a kentuck is.) It would have been a perfect spot for a picture had I brought a camera.
I headed back down Kentuck, then really down, all the way to the bottom of the other side of the mountain. After a quick roll down to the rail trail, I headed up sugar run.
Sugar Run is pretty uneventful in the upward direction, and at the top I rolled to the bottom of that mountain. And then back up (That's three mountains we've climbed so far boys and girls) On climb back I ate an uncrustable, which was quite yummy.
Coming back down Sugar Run was a little more hectic. The geography of Ohiopyle is really strange. There are a lot of rocks, just like Laural mountain, but unlike Laural, all the rocks are loose, and about the size of baseballs. On a steep, loose part of one decent, my front wheel hit one of the aforementioned baseballs, and bounced off. Since I was indirectly attached to said wheel, I nearly bounced off of my cycle. I ended up straddling the bike with one leg on a log and the other on one of the rolly rocks. I'm not sure how I manged not to leave part of my face on those rocks.
At the base of the hill I turned onto the rail trail, and pedaled it back into town. The three or so miles I spent on it were more than enough to remind me of my immense disdain for crushed limestone paths.
My final ascent of the day was up Sugar Loaf. The loaf is steep, long, and just filled with loose rocks. Near the top I turned around and coasted (after a bone jarring descent) back to the parking lot. Total ride time was 4:01. Hurray!

winters end review

I meant to do this ten days ago. And I really meant to blog more than once in the month of March. But I did not. So I'll write this post with much goodly goodly quality.
The winter was so so long. But I rode more than I would have ever dreamed I could. I commuted to school an average of four days a week, with another ride or two on the weekend. I learned a lot about riding in the cold through trial and error (by a lot, I mean I learned everything that I now know.) I put in great base for the upcoming race seasons, both mountain bike and running, and I learned to be tough on the bike.

January was bitter. As I look back through my ride journal, numbers like 2:05 hrs at 2*F, and 1:58 at -3* stand out at me. Here in my warm house, I can hardly believe I rode through crap like that. For added craziness, I recorded all my temperatures without the windchill. I can only imagine how cold it really was moving at 15mph through -3*F. If memory serves, for about 25 days of 2009's opening month, the mercury did not break 15*F. I logged 197 miles and 15 hours from 1-13 to 1-31. Brr.

With most days above 10*F, February felt mild. By the middle of the month, I started getting my clothing right. The recipe for success was toe covers with thick wool socks, wool tights under knee warmers with polypoo tights over top, all covered by windbreaking pants. On top a wool shirt squeezed under a wool jersey was comfortable down to 25 degrees. I put a soft shell on for really cold days. Ski gloves, hat and turtle fur neck warmer kept the extremities comfy. I only needed ski goggles in driving snow or hail (didn't ever have them in those conditions. of course.) The majority of the time, I was fine with regular sunglasses.

All most all of my winter miles were on the fixed gear. Until the day I had to chop off a canti stud because of a frozen brake, I was running a mountain tire in the front and a cross tire in the rear. I used a clip on rear fender and a homemade licence plate fender for the front. I stayed reasonably dry, and never had a problem with slipping in car snot.

Commuting every morning in the dark manages to somehow suck while being cool at the same time. I had to leave at 6:30 to make it to school by 7:20. On the especially dark, snowy mornings, I could hardly tell I was moving (except for the tingle my slowly freezing cheeks (the facial variety of course)) It was sort of like being in a deprivation tank. Very cool experience.

I did not get to ride many trails. On the rare days that a could hitch a ride with the lady bear up to hidden valley, I found myself wishing for a fat bike. On one particular ride, my front tire was punching through the snow about ever ten feet. I would just drop through and stop. Not fall over or crash, just stop. It got annoying. But the snow did make it easy to get the heart rate up. And toe covers are not good for hike a bikes.

This winter had its good moments, but overall it was rough. I'm so ready for hot and humid weather.

marshmallow fields forever

The feeling of a tire almost rolling off a rim is a curious thing. It feels like the back of the bike turns into a trailer and swings out to the side. Or like the rear wheel just ran into a pit of marshmallows and lost traction.
I felt that twice today. Then I flatted. Again. I am soooo damn sick of tubes.
I rode most of the way to the lady bears house on about 5psi in a 26c tire. That says great things for Soma Everwears. They hold their shape really well without air (much better than say, a larson mimo). And the blue stripe on mine makes them extra fast. (when they do have air, of course.) The whole way I was riding gingerly, hoping that I wouldn't pull the rubber off my rim.
3/4 of the way to her house I remembered carry a Co2 inflator in my bag o' shit. Oi. I hate my forgetfulness sometimes.
After I gassed up the tire I was off again without and problemos. And it was a rather pleasant day.

Hail to the cycle who coastith not

From Worthless Garbage

+

From knobby meats

=

Crazy good climbing!!
Huzzah!

Today's ride made me a believer in the benefits of riding a fixed gear with a 30lb bag o' shit everyday.
The temperatures were great today in Western PA, so after some running scaffalaca and I went out for about 20 miles at a moderate pace. Scaffalaca is a good road racer and rides a carbon fiber Colnago. I ride a heavy ass steel, fixed, skinny tired mountain bike. And I was smoking him like a stoggie on every climb we hit.

At the bottom of every hill I heard a 'click' 'click' 'clicking' down the of his gears. He slowed down. Obviously, on the fixed gear I do not have that option. I have to stand and hammer and pray my knees don't explode. I sped up. And kept it up.

I won't discuss what happened on the downhills. (coasting is cheating.)

Riding fixed has definitely made me a great climber. It's really good stuff.

the world at large

It amazes me how things work themselves out. I'm beginning to find that if I'm patient, everything just falls into place.
I recently sold the dirtmobilis. The padre was convinced that we would be lucky if we could get someone to come drag it away, but I put it on craigslist and am now $1000 richer. If I would have been hasty and taken it to the scrap yard, I would be sitting on a whole lot of nothing.
We are in the process of trying to get rid of our B.A Van which is currently located at my old residence in the middle of no where. At my old residence, I had the pleasure of having one old jazzersizing, Subaru driving, lady as my neighbor. She has since died, and a new couple has moved into her house. As we pulled the battery out of the B.A Van, the new resident of the casa down the way trudged up the hill in deep snow to, as he so eloquently put it, "shoot the shit." We shot the shit until we were absolutely sure that it was dead, and it turns out he has a buddy who is in the market for a B.A Van. I'll have to go shit shooting with him real soon.
The lady bear and I have been on the lookout for an old beach cruiser to fix up for some time. I've been combing ebay and craigslist and finding some crazy prices. Today at work, a customer saw my bike sitting outside the coffee shop. He asked who's it was, I told him it was mine, and we started talking bike. He just so happens to have massive amounts of old frames and parts he wants to get rid of. One frame is a beach cruiser. Huzzah! Free bikes all around!
I'm excited. And right now, I'm feeling like the worlds a pretty lovely place.

ice cold dressing: commuting part 1

The cranial area:

From Worthless Garbage

The head region does more to regulate body temperature than any other area of the body. Getting the hat situation figured out is more important than a jacket, as important as a morning bowl of cereal.
On chilly days 40-20F I were the black hat of the right. Its a loosely knit viking cap that breathes nicely and works great on days I have to go pillaging. The sunglasses (natives) are enough to keep my eyeballs happy down to about 10F. However, they don't do a damn thing when the snow starts falling.
The red hat is a pollypoo blend of some sort. It does not let nearly as much wind in as the viking cap, and is much tighter. It keeps my head toasty enough in the negative Fahrenheit temperatures (-5F has been the coldest we've had this year in lovely Picksburgh.) I feel a little self conscious about wearing a red hat under a lime green helmet, but I really don't want to buy another hat. When the sky starts falling, there is no substitute for ski goggles. I really don't like to wear them because they're a pain with my helmet, but sometimes there is just no choice.
On the subject of helmets, I've had my Giro for something like 6 years and its sooo nice. I just love it to death. I don't have to much trouble getting a hat under it.
The final piece of head gear I swathe myself in in the cold is a neck warmer. It makes a huge difference in holding in body heat. At this point in the winter, when I'm used to the temperature, I can wear the warmer instead of a jacket. It makes that much difference.

Yogoga

Holly shite. Yoga is good.

The lady bear has been asking me to go with her to yoga class for a while. But since we are both very busy and important people, we haven't had the time. Until tonight.

We went to a little place called moonglow and took a beginners class. The building is nice, there's a cat, and, well the cat is nice. The actual yoga room is hot as the inside of a pizza oven. I felt like peperoni. It was really really hot. I think the room was something like 85F. Being used to 10F, I felt like passing out for the first part of the session. Next time I'm bringing water, and something to keep my damn hair out of my eyes. I was expecting the yoga to be easy, but I was wrong.

The instructor goes non stop for an hour. There was tons of stretching, some balance, and some challenging (for me! i know right? that's crazy!) core work. At the end of the class my legs felt fantastic. They were really sore and tight before hand, but that hour defiantly fixed them. Yoga is going to have to become part of my weekly routine.

Stumping for parts

After 30 minutes of hell on the trainer, I found a neato sponsorship application on the Raceface website. After circumnavigating all the flash shit that they use to deter, I filled it out.



Current Sponsors?
Tenderfoot, my squeaky chew toy turkey.
So none.

Bikes?
Rigid Niner One9
1980 BCA fixed gear

Riding in the past two years?
I commute 23 miles everyday in snow, sleet, and rain. I’m dedicated. I raced my fist XC series last fall and finished 9th in the Expert Singlespeed division, with absolutely no training time because of the cross country running season. Currently, I commute, workout after my commute, and head to the mountains for training rides on the weekend.

Events you may be attending?
Wilderness 101
Big Bear Classic
24 hrs of Big Bear
High Cascades 100
Subaru 24hr Champion Challenge
With a little support, I'm up for anything

What movies/ mags/ websites do you expect to be featured in?
That depends entirely on my results. Which depends on my ability to race. Which in turn depends on my level of sponsorship support. With a little luck, someone will make a movie about me. (Ha! I lies good)

Why should Raceface sponsor you?
Raceface needs a new face. Being a young, aspiring endurance single speeder, I could provide that face. (by that I meant that they need to sponsor somebody who doesn’t look like a douchey skate boarder. not that all boarders are douchey, just most.) I would give raceface free advertising by sewing a large raceface banner onto my messenger bag, which is seen by dozens of good ol’ boys in pickups everyday. I could also fly a small raceface flag on the back of my cycle. I am even willing to tattoo that neat little eye thing on some part of my body, but only if I am guaranteed free chaining bolts for life.



I fully expect to be getting a nice fat check from the good forging canucks by the end of the week.

Minoats

I need more saddle time. I just started logging my rides, and I'm only coming up with about 5.5 hours a week. That's really not enough for the amount of racing I want to do this summer. But oval season (track) is coming up and I know that once I start running I'm not going to have the time, or energy/ desire, to put in more hours. So do I ride more now and hope that my cycling fitness will carry through the running season? Or just not worry about it and get on the bike once track is over? What a dilemma I have.
It really is hard to get in long rides in the cold. My body is starting to get used to the temps, but my water bottle is not. It freezes after about a half an hour in the cold. Turning it upside down in the bottle cage works to an extent, but still it freezes. I've looked into getting a miniature dragon to blow on the bottles, but then I would need to buy miniature goats to feed it. Minoats, as they're called in dragon breeding circles, are notoriously salty. If I fed my dragon with nothing but minoats, he would get thirsty and likely drink my water after he thawed it. And I would still be waterless.

aqueous gluteus

I need to put fenders on. My ass is getting soaked almost every morning now. I hate wet ass. I’ve been wearing some rain pants from REI that really cut the wind and help keep me dry, but they are no match for the salty brine that my tires kick up. Not only do I have the rearward soakage to contend, with but when I arrive at school my mouth is filled with road grit. It is not the most appetizing substance. The garbage tastes like well salted dirt.
Fenders will go on. Front mountain tire will go on. I normally run 700c wheels on my commuter, but since it is a mountain cycle, it seems logical to change the back to some bigger rubber for the winter. But that means I have change those damn kludgy brake things I had to use to get the brakes to work with a bigger wheel. Oh well.


(the commuting cycle in its kind-of-winter form)

I really need to decide on a racing schedule for this summer. Wilderness 101 is most defiantly a priority. Yarg! So much training and prep to be done.