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I still ride bikes, sometimes.

Back in Black

After nearly two weeks off the bike, my battered knee felt strong enough to spin today between rainstorms. Should be back in top form in just a couple of weeks, just in time for the MoState hill bike race at Castlewood (which I am ineligible for anyways). Honestly, if any a time to hurt myself mid season, this was it. Weather has been uncooperative and I saved money on brake pads by not racing Rhett's. Just deluding myself about missing out on some quality saddle time.

Paramount to all though, I landed a job with Accenture. Details pending, this fall I'll find myself in the windy city as a tech analyst. Excitingly, I will be able to live it up here in the 314 for one last Goonie summer with the Mesa boys. Now I just need to find one of those summer jobs.

Massive 'Sup-date

Delineating time:UFD East #3 Greensfelder Challenge

In my opinion, one of the most demanding and abusive race courses for the St. Louis crowd in quite awhile. So much so, that I found myself on the deck in the opening minutes of lap 1. Having deftly descended the opening fall line, mine field I sat mid-pack behind teammate Drew Black and an aggressively hard-charging Scott Piepert. Half-way through the ensuing meandering uphill switchbacks, I found myself grounded between a rock and an Epic. I am still uncertain what I hit. Regardless, I scraped myself from the trail like a charred & forgotten hamburger patty from the depths of an ungreased diner grill. My right knee and shin took the brunt of impact; covered in blood and locked up. Peg-legging out of the woods, I hung up my helmet and headed back east after a short 5 minutes of racing in exchange for an afternoon of RICEing. I felt in good form coming into the event and had really hoped for a good result to back up the training hours I've put in this spring.

WORS #1 Iola Bump & Jump

Amidst a series of typical spring rainouts, I opted to pack up the jeepster and head north for the WORS series opener. Having raced here and won last year as a Cat 2 rider, I was eager to return to the World Cup style course and put in my bid for the Pro/Elite field. If ever presented with an opportunity to compete at a WORS event, do yourself a favor and follow my lead. With half of the course poised on the edge of a massive ski jump basin and the other half following a slew of circuitous cross country ski routes, the Iola course evokes imaginative moments of chasing down Geoff Kabush or sprinting bar-end to bar-end with Julien Absalon. The 109 man strong Pro/Elite field lending to the over 850 total competitors for the event surely doesn't diminish the european race atmosphere either.

Arriving at the line 20 minutes to launch, I found the start chute already teeming with riders and unhappily took my spot near the back. From the gun, eventual race winner Tristan Schouten set off on a laser mission seemingly with 107 compatriots in tow. Working on finding my lungs on lap 1, I settled into a sustainable pace by lap 2 and maintained my rank among those riding around me. Having suffered from allergy/sinus issues all weekend, I rolled across the line after 5 laps in a dismal 72nd place finish. Not the result I was hoping for. Regardless, it was an enjoyable weekend trip with picture perfect spring weather (more than could be said for St. Louis).

Training

So far this year, I have been able to follow a fairly intense and regimented training plan with the absence of school or work in my life. I am able to ride 10-20 hours per week depending on weather and motivation and have sneaked in half a dozen or so trips to the Ozark trail. Lucky, I know. However, I am slightly dismayed by the plateau I find myself stuck on. Given the amount of bike hours logged thus far, I really expected my fitness and results to be much more impressive. I would really like to see some positive result before plunging into the corporate world here in just a few short weeks. I am flying out for a final interview this coming Friday and hope to end this doldrums chapter of my life. Until then though, I will continue to be one with the bike.

Leadbelt XC

Much akin to 2008, the 2010 Missouri statewide mountain bike series kicked off at St. Joe State Park under a new moniker, the United Federation of Dirt. Despite the new name, the race exhibited similar tricks. For one weekend a year, an 8 mile stretch of dirt bike trails are passed off as a cross country course. To continue with the theme of tricks, this transmogrification represents the "turn," with the "prestige" being a resultant face melting, as flow is a minuscule concern to those with 250cc, four-stroke, smog machines between their legs. For those of us with less than 400 watts of power in our two "leg" strokes, flow is paramount. Complaints aside, the masochistic side of me has really enjoyed this race each year. It's an ideal location for early in the season due to the lack of elevation and rocky soil. Mark, the race promoter, also seems truly passionate about hosting this event each year.

With a fair amount of base leading up to the series opener, my legs felt robust as I waited at the line for the Cat 1 race, lungs a different story. Off the start, I easily found myself where I wanted to be, second wheel into the singletrack. I followed Zak Hafner for a little over a mile with the rest of the age groupies in tow. The start seemed a little sluggish for an expert race, although given the adverse trail conditions for the day, I was complacent to save some energy. Zak bobbled and hesitated on a slick stretch, in which I capitalized and put in a quick hard pull to separate from the pack. Sitting up after the pull, I noticed that one rider had tagged on. Incredibly matched on power, we traded pulls for the remainder of lap one, slowly putting distance on our cohorts. Hitting the asphalt wheel to wheel at the conclusion of lap 1, we collectively decided to sit up, grab some water, and sneak in a quick chat, having not seen any competitors for a few miles.

Rolling through for lap 2, it was game on. I inched out ahead wanting to hit the singletrack first. I put in a few hard pulls on the false flats and progressively got a little bit of breathing room behind me. All of a sudden, the fellow disappeared from the rearview mirror apparently with a mechanical ending his day. I finished out lap 2 solo.

By lap 3, I managed to catch a Revolution rider and kept within 50 feet or so for the last lap. Needing one hard surge to gap up, I found all of my matches used up. The Revolution rider (the money spot) disappeared up over the last climb, relegating me to a 4th place finish overall, 1st in the 19-29 age bracket. I am incredibly elated! Pre-season training payed huge dividends today. I had a great ride despite less than desirable conditions and know what I need to work on. Granted, this is merely a low priority early race, but I hope it's a sign of prosperous times on the horizon.

Here's to a buck nasty start to 2010.

To see 30 seconds of my butt, then me getting dropped follow this link and fast forward to the 3:20 mark:

http://vimeo.com/10166659

The Cogs, In Motion

Massive training hours taper to focused intensity. Definition of tan lines emerge with each passing day as the sun swivels betwixt tropics. From road to mountain, hair to nair - race season arrives in a verisimilitude of March, roaring like a lion.

Leadbelt, I'm ready.

Bubba 7 at St. Vincent

(Thanks to Mike for snapping some photos)

After some solid B race finishes this season, 4-6-3-4, I decided to sack up this weekend and do the big show. Uncertain about my relative riding level, I lined up on the back row of the 25 rider field. *An aside; I am most appreciative that we have USACycling reps willing to brave the elements weekend after weekend to officiate these races, but man they can be real turds sometimes* Off the line, the pack stayed bunched up for the majority of the opening straight. I unfortunately got sandwiched between a fella on a mountain bike (???!!!??) and some other chap slapping on my back tire. Jumping out of the sandwich, I was surprised how slow the midpack A race start was, but unfortunately was unable to make any passes. Hence, after a conservative opening lap, with the field stringing out through the technical sections and climbs, I was eventually able to pick up a couple of places.

By the end of the lap, I found SoIll ScottP and DBlack(I owe you massive amounts of beer holmes) who were hauling through the technical sections. I sat on with Drew for a couple of laps and from what I'm told, we closed a huge gap on the next group of riders. Noticing a few more Mesa dudes 30 seconds ahead, I came around DB hoping to tow him up with me. The next time I looked over my shoulder, the DB's had switched, and I now had a Pro-Ass Breslin flying to catch up. Having flatted, the dude was mega-motivated, closing Gaps like a recession. I sat on with Dave for a lap, taking cues from the master, before he pulled off at the Seagal refreshment station on the big ass climb. Well deserved hydration after running the entire course! The pulls with Drew and Dave put me in range of three more riders, although one turned out to be mountain bike bro. In the final two laps, I inched out Martin and Matt going through the two big climbs, ultimately rolling across the line for 11th.

Moment of Zen regarding the race:

-Wicked excited for a solid result in my first big league showdown

-Glad to perform well with my parents in the audience

-Course was phenomenal and well suited to me (probably a large factor of my result) Word to the set-up crew

-Hindsight feeling kind of dick about putting my teammates to the screws and not working with them more or offering more motivation

-Legs & Lungs feel kick-ass

Back to the Future Weekend

Narrative Hook-

Stellar action packed weekend: Halloween, Daylight Savings, & two nights of euro field racing to kick off the new month.

Ch1.

Donning a green Parisian silk garment, I started the race on the front line alongside a man sized hare and Number 6. Immediately the soggy grass gave way to precariously slick mud sections. My mountain skills out-shined the time trialing road fellows as I slowly gapped the field. Maintaining a steady pace for 45 minutes allowed for a flawless race, sans mishaps in what could have been a wipeout fest. Overall the race was fun, but uneventful as I easily held 3rd for the meat of it. $10 and 4 points the richer, I hit the sack.

Ch2.

Tired as anticipated, I hit Carl's Big Bend Pay 'N Spray for a Sunday morning bike bath. With the Stevens looking 95% pro, the mates and I hit Creve Coeur for the third time this week. I was hoping for call-ups like the previous night afair, but in their absence I still found my way to a second row start in a narrow, strung out B field. At the end of the asphalt straight, I hit the wooded section around 6th wheel. I jockeyed with a few noticeably slower riders for two laps before connecting with my usual Dent Wizard counterpart. The two of us, surprising equally matched, traded pulls for a couple laps, putting a huge gap on 5th and bridging up to 2nd. With the number 2 man visibly fatigued, I swung around and proceeded to tow the group for 3 or so laps.

Coming through the ties section with 2 to go, my rear brake jammed as I remounted requiring me to hop off, remedy, and hammer. Fervently hitting the slog, I managed to regain contact with the group and sandwich in. Out of gas, the chaps put some hurt on in the closing moments culminating in a three way group sprint to the line. Aftermath: a wheel length away from the big money, 3 points in the bucket, and generally content with the weekend of racing. College season kicks off next weekend which may evoke other noteworthy happenings. We'll see how the logs are feelin' and what the Rock is cookin'.

Afterword -

Bono to elimiNATEr for rockin' his first cross weekend aboard the ferSirrus express and mucho gusto to Bunnbo Baggins for a truckload of hot shots.

Night of the Living Bubba/Dawn of the Bubba

#1

With my legs and fitness feeling decent, despite a two week aversion to the bike due to ailments and exams, I put myself on the front line of battle for the B race, intent on finishing well. After an unjustifiably delayed starting whistle, my foot immediately found the pedal and I shot off the front leading the pack into the sweeping first descent. Having last led a race at the State Mountain Championships a number of months ago, I found it to be a surprisingly odd sensation. Remarkably, I managed to hold my position for most of the first lap before realizing that I was rolling at a non-sustainable pace given the soggy, energy-sucking conditions.

Sitting up just a bit, a few riders came around me on one of the long slow uphills. I managed to hold the third place wheel and stick with 2nd & 3rd for the majority of the race. As I started to fade, a couple second gap began to form in the group as the pair up front dropped me going through the barrier/run-up section. Shortly thereafter on the same lap, a Manchester rider exploded past me coming out of the off camber mud section. Within two subsequent straights and turns, I reeled the fellow back in and put some distance on him that would stick for the rest of the race.

With the pass garnering a bit of adrenaline and nearing the bell lap, I put in one last effort to reach the 2nd/3rd party. Hitting the hairpin turns just before the finish straightaway, I managed to catch the two, but was one turn behind. This small gap allowed the two to open up into a sprint a few seconds ahead of me and disappear down the hill to the finish. With no one contesting for fourth, I sat up and rolled across the line in ease. Awesome race for me, earning some series points, but sadly no podium or payday.

#2

Talk about a tale of two races. With the exception of the few XC/Short Track combos during the collegiate season this year, I have rarely done back to back races. After destroying an Imo's medium and half a box of bran, I passed out Saturday for 11 hours. Kicking my alarm off Sunday morning a half dozen times, I was resolute in not racing again. However an early morning wake up call from the parents indicating they were coming out to watch the race motivated me to throw on the spandies for another hour of field racing pain. With some accrued expert advice from birthday boy MJames and Boss Hoss Russ, I once again found myself on the front line hungry for a destruction sandwich.

Off the line, I eased my way up the pavement start, entering the grass fourth wheel. Picture perfect opener. Hitting the quagmire adjacent the officials table and the ensuing upward pitch, my momentum dwindled and a string of riders floated by. Suffering up the climb and hitting the second road section, I caught my breath and caught a wheel on the freight train. Going through the barriers on lap 1, a shouting spectator indicated that I was sitting in 7th. Somewhere in the mix-up, a couple other dudes sneaked past, knocking me back to 11th. Trading places with the same Manchester rider from the night before, we rolled into the mud pit near the end of lap 1; me with functioning chain, him without.

Over the following laps, I bridged up to a Dent Wizard rider and proceeded to swap spots for the remainder of the race. Details remain dim with less than ample lighting adorning the pain cave. For five laps, I could see a small group of riders a few seconds ahead and a couple of stragglers trailing us. Despite multiple solo attempts to gap up, and failed persuasion to get the Dent Wizard to take pulls with me, we continued our mini-battle for 6th. Honestly, after both racing last night, I am not sure either one of us had gas in the tank to close the gap.

Either way, on the bell lap, DW hit the afterburners on the first pavement section, putting a few lengths on me. Catching my breath, and maintaining a steady cadence, I put in a hard effort once we hit the grass again. Two lapped riders found their way between us, spelling disaster for my efforts. Hitting the climb on the backside, I swung around one and caught the wheel of the other. Three of us - DW, lapped chucko, and myself - snaked around the low stuff, wheel to wheel. Climbing towards the barriers, I found some power from deep within and blasted around the two fellas on the inside. We remained in formation for the last half lap of the race.

Going into the mud pit and the following hair-pins, I stomped hard ensuring that I was first in, first out. Hitting the last road section, I shifted into the big ring for the only big ring action of the weekend and made my ninth place stick. Despite the less glamorous overall spot, the head to head racing on Day 2 was undeniably more enjoyable. Still in the base/build phase of my fall training, I am really looking to come on strong as the season winds on. Hopefully by December I can win one of these things (maybe even cat up).

Burnin' Sechs

Full body chafe, neck feels like it's been karate chopped, & enough lactic acid in my legs to make a quart of cottage cheese; aftermath of my weekend with the dragon lady known as the Burnin' at the Bluff.This weekend marked my third crack at the indisputably best mountain bike race in the midwest.

BURN

Two years ago, I was a mere Burnin' virgin, getting my sh1t tossed in the 1x1 class. At that unenlightened point in my life, having just discovered SPDs, but not yet embracing the tight pants, I managed three 1:30 laps. Pretty sick D for my first ever mountain bike race. Last year, I returned to the Bluff with a seasons worth of sport racing experience accrued, now fully embracing the tight pants, and once again chomping at the dingle speed competition. After puking out a balls out 1:15 lap, I triple flatted on lap 2, and inserted beer into face for the remainder of the day.

Exposition exposited, this weekend was big for me. Having become smitten with mountain biking after a ride at CBluff in the beginning, having left something out in the woods the previous year, and having this be the last fat tire race of my best season yet, I approached the weekend chuck full of piss and vinegar. Despite wanting to yet again try my hand at the no-gears class, my Mesa mates felt otherwise and divorced me from that notion. Ruffie-colada, Prince of Darkness, and myself enlisted in the incredibly stacked Wicked Fast category. MJames carried us early in the day with Con-Air and myself switching out for the afternoon and night laps.

Lap 1 for me, aboard the Karate Monkey, felt phenomenal. Despite a few bobbles on some of the slippery sections, I blasted around the lake posting a 1:12 lap. Besting my fast lap from last year and setting the fast lap for the team, I was incredibly pleased. For lap 2, wanting to save my body, I borrowed a S-Works Epic from the Specialized demo trailer. With $9,000 resting in my crotch, I managed to post yet another 1:12 lap. Hindsight, I am kind of bummed that I didn't jockey the Epic for my first lap while the legs were fresher, as my laps times were fast, but still not in contention with the fast cats. As has been my story for most of this season, still looking for minutes out there in the woods.

Sick Rips Bra!

Went out for a third, pitch black, night lap; this time on a Stumpjumper FSR. Loads of suspension travel allowed me to smash into every rock, twig, and obstacle on trail at full speed, and I did. Having some problems with my lights and with my legs, I rolled in for a 1:30ish lap, 15 minutes shy of the time cut-off. Tired, wet, cold; and with my mates already enjoying the Blue Ribbon tent, I grabbed a bowl of pasta and shrugged off the back-to-back night lap. Probably should have gone out for one more to avoid looking like a wiener, but as I write this today, my body assuredly appreciates the 13 mile deficit.

Round Up! Rad weekend as always; in fact, better than previous Burnin's. Really enjoyed camping with my Wash U crew (congrats to them for a 4th place co-ed finish) and racing with my Mesa pals (congrats to us, despite finishing 6th in Wicked Fast we still managed 10th overall). I totally owe Specialized and the Justin duo a Coke for supplying me with the most chi-chi bikes I have ever piloted. Above all, thanks to everyone at Mesa for a great event and a great year of mountain bike racing!

The Business End.

MWCCC Regionals

Wash U Cycling Team Fall '09

Traveled to Mizzou Saturday for collegiate regionals; synonymous with last cross country race of my season. Last minute rain and rain-phobia migrated the race venue from Rockbridge to Cosmopolitan Park. Kind of upsetting as I pre-rode Rockbridge a few weeks ago in anticipation of a strong race in Columbia. I also have never ridden well at Rhett's Run. Regardless, I entered the race somewhat listless and flat due to a heavy week of carb loading for my 23rd birthday.

Off the line, the expert field funneled from 20 wide to 1 wide, ejecting most of the periphery into a giant ass pine tree. The subsequent opening section of trail continued to be a crash up derby with kids flying off into the woods in every direction. Making it through the first techy descent and gaining a few places on the following climb, I encountered a fast Michigan rider looking for some CO2. As I rode past, I threw him my can, and settled into a group. At the top of the climb my rear end got loose then started the cobra hiss of death. Flat tire. No CO2. Middle of the Woods. Weekend over. Pay it forward my ass.

Anyways, not the way I wanted to end my racing season. Things have been up and down this year. I had a good opener with my Wors Sport win, followed by lots of time off the bike nursing tendinitis. Came back strong mid summer to win Mo States and place just out of the top 10 at Nationals. Catted up, and finished the season out with some lackluster performances. Looking forward to the upcoming Burnin' and putting in some miles before the cross season kicks off. Here's to the end of the fat tire season and the dawn of euro field racing.

Cross the Streams!

Yo cats. After last minute realization that the Purdue cross country race was in Eastern Time, I opted to shrug off the 5 hour drive to North Indy for some St. Louis racing action. Hermann Cross Under the lights kicked off my '09 cyclocross season with an 80's synth riff.

Debating what class to race during the drive out to Hermann, I was set straight in the registration line by some Mesa mates, Brace and DB, suggesting I remove my head from my ass. I am glad that I ended up in the 3's race. Despite starting on the back and dropping my chain a few times, I managed to work my way up to a 12th place finish. Crossing the line with my teammates, Zach & Matt, was the highlight of my weekend (although the deal would have been sweetened had we been 123 rather than 10, 11, 12).

Although my cross course repertoire is yet small, I thought the Hermann layout was stellar. The stairs provided a grueling obstacle/beer tunnel and the flat stuff turned out to be screamin' fast. The jury is still out on the sandpit-hurdle section. Devious piece of track. Course aside, my BAMF chi-chi hybrid cruiser bike thing surprisingly rocked and rolled thanks to the Durace groupo and tires that cost more than the wheels they are mounted to!

Said and done, great race, great times! Really love hanging out with the Mesa crew. They alone make me insanely eager for cross season to get rolling. In the meantime however, MWFTCS @ Greensfelder, Burnin', and Collegiate Regionals are planned to round out my fat tire racing this season.

Sick D.

Round #3

The third round of the Midwest Collegiate Cycling mountain season transported me to incest riddled middle of nowheresville Kantuckee. The event, hosted by Lindsey Wilson College (dr. who?), went down at Green River Lake State Park about 1.5 hours south of Louisville. Still not sure what in the hell a river lake is, but it sure makes a dang fine swimmin' hole for those local folks. Unlike that B.A. gangsta flick, the 8 mile trail meandered through the foliage with little topography to speak of with the exception of three gnar downhills coupled immediately with 3 completely unridable uphills. Less than desirable race setting, but who can complain about single track perched on the shores of a river lake on a beautiful fall day.

Time zones make sense, daylight savings time questionable, Indiana and Kentucky's ignorance of them is downright dumb. Nate and I rolled out of our hotel presumably at 7am only to watch our cell phones change time zones twice on the 15 minute drive to the river lake. Arrival at the race scene found the lot to be completely deserted. Apparently, despite being in eastern time, the race organizers (just a few miles away mind you) were in central time (and running late). Minds blown and sleep deprivation high, I searched my jeep for the flux capacitor that brought us to that F-ed up time warp.

Experts rolled off first for a change at 9 (8 or was it 10?) . With thirty two riders, it was the biggest expert field so far this season, as we duked out position rolling through the corn field start. Despite being warned seconds earlier of a downed tree entering the single track, a good portion of us nailed it. Go college scholars.

With some early jockying of position I found myself in my usual mid-pack B squad. A group of epo addicted freaks pulled away with my Red5 squadron forming as a chase group. The insanely flat nature of the course allowed us to more or less stay grouped up throughout the lap, with some slight accordion action on the techy descents and climbs. By the second lap, we had dropped a few riders from the pack, whittling down to one rep each from Michigan, Purdue, WashU, & Michigan Tech. Dropping the MichTech jerk on the second climb, the remaining three of us pacelined the remainder of lap 2, each taking pulls.

As the freight train came through the feed zone for the final lap, I slowed to pick up a bottle to find that someone had moved/taken all of my feed junk. Slammed the brakes, 180ed the bike, erupted a series of roid-raged out nonsensical expletives, watched my train depart, and finally grabbed a bottle from a thunderstruck rando bystander, I rocketeered my stumpjumper back into the woods hoping to gap back up. I caught the Purdue rider on the first uphill and danced with him until the tech roots DH, watching him OTB endo down into the gully. Never saw him again, but also never found the Michigan chap. Shortly after ascending the last climb, I spotted a rider about 30 seconds ahead on the next section. With less than 1/4 mile to go, I knocked into the 11 on the cassette and furiously turned the cranks. Catching the Lindenwood rider off guard 50 feet from the finish, the sprint was on. As I started to come around on the right, he countered and I hammered hard, jumped left, snuck in a few extra cranks, and thrust my bike in front of me, taking him by less than a wheel (and nearly mowing down a few of the women expert riders in the process).

Yea, so hindsight it might be foolish to sprint out for 13th place. Regardless, it marked my best finish in an expert race thus far, and really made an otherwise mundane race a little more memorable. Closer to that coveted top 10 this weekend, but still a few minutes off pace. Hoping that a structured schedule of training through the next two races, will afford me my goal for conference regionals at Mizzou.

Quenching an Adrenaline Addiction

Skis are for bitches.

Rip'en Ripon

Quick race update from Wautoma Wisconsin. Up here near Mt. Morris (middle of motherlicking nowhere) for the second round of the collegiate mountain bike series. I write to you from the corner of my suite at the Super 8, catching the World's replay, post pizza and hot tub ransacking.

Nordic Mountain Ski Area at Mt. Morris hosted the event which is also home to the Subaru Cup on the WORs circuit. Each 5.1 mile lap consisted of a king's ransom of open track climbing with tech heavy single track descents. The entire trail was littered with cabbage sized rocks and knobs. Perfect conditions for some skull busting (especially on a full rigid).

Rolling up late, I brought up the rear of the herd through the opening cardiac arrest climb. Picking up a few spots on the climb, I entered the single track just inside the top 20. Over the next two laps, I slowly picked off riders moving just outside the top 10. Halfway through lap three, the tank ran dry and my energy belly flopped. I botched my feed, loosing a spot, then a series of pedal strikes and sloppy bike handling lost another. Pulling myself back together I trudged through the last lap and finished 15th overall. I am kicking myself however, as I could see the next three places just a few seconds ahead, yet I failed to attempt to gap up.

Once again ambivalent about my results. It was a fairly stacked field with a few u23s and Pros on the front, but I had trouble just hanging with the D-listers as both my high end and stamina both gave out. I guess this is all just good training for next year. Hope the short track goes a little better tomorrow. Season goal is at least one top ten finish. Here's hoping!

Butler at Muscatatuck

The collegiate mountain season kicked off this weekend with a cross country hosted by Butler U. at Muscatatuck Park in So. Indy. Rolling into the park early Saturday my legs were feeling decent, but my ego was still a little battered from the preceding weekends beat down. Chatting and pre-riding with fellow St.Louie-ian ZHaf motivated me a bit, but the delayed race start and squadron of Wilson riders cracked back.

Rolling off the line, we jumped into the woods at 0.5 past light speed vying for position before hitting the tech single track descent. Led by a couple of junior pro elite supremos we covered the 5.2 mile lap somewhere just over the 20 minute mark; not a sustainable pace. Coming through the feed on lap 1 I was somewhere in the top 10, lap 2 outside the top 10, and lap three back in due to the extreme pace setting jerks pulling out.

About a mile into lap 4 I caught a pedal on a hidden log while descending and went down hard on my left knee. Catching my wind, dusting myself off, and straightening the skewed bits on the stumpjumper, I attempted to turn the pedals over and grunt back up the hill hoping to recoup lost time. No shirts, no shoes, no dice; I was done. The knee was throbbing and destroying myself over a 10th place finish for 2 more laps seemed hardly worthwhile. I hiked out of the woods, threw my bike like a good sportsman, and iced my shit.

Two DNFs in two weekends has me pretty beaten down. This elite racing thing is for real. I am going get a little experimental and try switching up my training and nutrition routine for the next week or two. We'll see. Seeking coaching or training advice if you've got some.

Perhaps I will travel to Wisconsin next weekend.

Cape GerardDepardieu

Lead:

Wow, I have no aerobic capacity!

Lead-Up:

Today marked another development in my cycling pubescence. Akin to Max in Where the Wild Things Are, I felt like a mere adolescent among aged behemoths. Leading up to the Cape Race, I had a few solid workouts including a weekend of singlespeeding in KC and a few tempo rides this past week. My last workout ride, Thursday, saw me riding the Castlewood race loop from earlier in the month. Demoralizing; I left the Wood realizing that I was about five minutes off pace (per lap) to hang with the true aficionados. This grim truth would haunt me for the remainder of the weekend.

Lead Out:

Off the line, the 9 man strong expert open field sprinted through the grass. Hesitant and cautious, I trailed the pack into the woods following Dblack and Scotto. The first half of the course consisted of ridiculously buff, practically paved, rolling hills. Trail conditions and its rolling nature made for a high speed opener. Unfortunately I left my lungs somewhere last week. I managed to stay with my companions throughout the first lap hanging just a few seconds back. By the double track climb, mid-way through the second lap, I had no choice but to back off the pace just a bit. Much of the middle portion of the race eludes my memory as I ventured deep into the pain cave. Laps 2-4 went by with no talking, minimal drinking, and my head slung low between my shoulders, whilst attempting to bridge back up to the back of the pack.

Taking an incredibly circuitous route through the small acreage park, the trail offered ample gaging of gaps between competitors. Frequently, I would spot riders from my class and reckon to be about 30 seconds back. To the best of my knowledge, I think that I was able to keep a majority of the expert 35+ folks at bay, which I am pretty proud of for my first upscale outing. A disclaimer though, that this is the perception of a dehydrated shell of a man.

Rolling across the line a few minutes before the 1.5 hour mark, I went out for my fifth and ultimate lap. The rolling section went swimmingly as per usual and I gulped the rest of my water ascending the double track. Cresting the hill, entering the twisty singletrack, my body shut down, violently attempting to remove stomach contents. I pulled off course and dry heaved for about a minute. After spitting up some water and gu, I hopped back on the Stumpjumper and took off into the woods. A few turns later, I noticed the rear end getting really loose coming around corners. Then, the bike developed a straight line wiggle. Pulling over to inspect the rear tire confirmed my fears, a sidewall gash spewing Stan's all over the trail. Taking two signs from the big man, I called it, Game Over.

Led:

Overall, the Cape turned out to be an educational first Cat 1 outing. I feel pretty ambivalent towards my performance, as I exceedingly outperformed any of my Cat 2 efforts this year, but would have still rolled across the line dead ass last, even without the mechanical. Now knowing my weaknesses, I look forward to the college season kicking off next weekend and hope that the next time I roll with the Stl cats I can hold some wheel a little longer.

Now for a week of rest as I may have overtrained a bit.

Ma Dingle Speed

rather than enduro-ing around crowder for half a day, i lived out my own RIM 2008 all-star fantasy team ride at landahl. that trail is gnarlier than i remembered. 4 hours of rigid gearless left me needing a hoveround. backed that up with some car camping and a 2 hour jaunt at rockbridge. for a protected trail, not impressed.

sneaking in some rides this week with hopes of bringing some pain the next few weekends. could result in:

-more broken bike parts (F-SRAM)
-tendinitis (anyone know tai chi?)
-face melting destruction (toxic avenger eat your heart out)

Penrose

Things that don't mix:

Crossbikes & Track

Spandex & Ghetto

Enchilada Tofu & My Crap Factory

Heed this advice gunslinger.

Forecast: Chawesome weekend of cyclicnicity bra.

Dirt Biking

Naked Biking

Drunken Biking

SRAMit Up Your...

Turns out that I discovered an inherent flaw in the Reba fork family. Upside, easy fix. Downside, parts are backordered. SRAM may receive a package of fecal matter anonymously.

On the flippity, after 5 stupidly laborious hours my faux-crossbike is back in action and I managed a solid rail to trail at sunset. Every once in awhile Missouri manages some beauty.

Terry Rd is hot sex.